Blood Ties: First Blood
by by xandria
Summary: Asteroth is back but trapped within a human host the only thing standing between him and freedom is Vicky Nelson. She’ll need all her friends for this last battle but will they answer her call? Or will Vicky find out how deep the dark really can be?
1. Chapter 1

Blood Ties First Blood

Okay, back to the fanfiction!

_Synopsis; Asteroth is back but trapped within a human host the only thing standing between him and freedom is Vicky Nelson. She'll need all her friends for this last battle but will they answer her call? Or will Vicky find out how deep the dark really can be? _

_Words of Warning and Disclaimer; I do not own the Blood Ties universe, characters etc. they are the work of the very talented Tanya Huff, and brought into 3d living colour by the ingenious creative mind of Peter Mohan. That said, my fanfiction is based solely on the television show, Blood Ties and any inconsistencies with the Blood Books is therefore to be expected._

_Secondly, some readers may be familiar with my other fanfiction about Blood Ties, entitled Blood Bond. I'm not shamelessly plugging it, but I wanted to be clear that this is the direct sequel to that other work and as such readers that have not read Blood Bond may encounter characters or plot twists out of reference. Be prepared for old friends (or foes) and unfinished details to be brought back again! You can read First Blood alone, but do so at your own risk of missing details._

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Blood Ties First Blood Ch. 1

"Come with me…"

Vicky's eyes slipped shut, a sound escaping her lips even while she bit them closed to keep silent. It was nearly impossible, though and even as she thought it another cry escaped, sounding soft into the darkness.

He only laughed at her and continued…the sound all she could hear in the total darkness that defined her world above her ragged breathing and the increasing pounding beat of her heart.

She was scared, afraid of what would happen and so she clung to sanity, her eyes squeezing shut, her brain refusing to believe what was happening as if that would save her.

"let go…"he whispered, his voice seeming to come from the darkness itself, from everywhere. "It's been so long…just let go Vicky…trust me."

At the first touch of his fingertips, she felt a shiver run through her to settle as a rush of wings in her stomach. His hands were fine boned and long, smooth but with odd calluses on the palms, a rough contrast that scraped across her skin at the edges of her clothing…teasing her with his power over her.

She could feel him above her, eyes still closed in the darkness she didn't know how she knew but he was there. It was a presence, large and overpowering but he didn't touch her…only the fingertips slowly drifting over her stomach as if coaxing the butterflies in her stomach to take flight.

Fingertips moved…tracing up slowly…ever so slowly, followed by hands and palms as he stroked up, brushing his hands over her ribs and up, taking her shirt with it, the soft fall of silk sliding over her shoulders and exposing her skin to the air.

She shivered again as if the darkness had brought cold and ice into the room as its paramours, but then heat and adrenalin rushed through her as she heard his voice, next to her ear, soft strands of hair tickling her cheek.

"Vicky…" he breathed and she felt the warmth on her neck. "You can't know how long I've waited for you, wanted you….there is no one else, please…just let go."

Vicky was still for a moment, undecided as the beat of her heart warred with that little voice in her head that told her to run.

"You don't have to run anymore Vicky…I'll always be here with you."

She sighed, tired of fighting this, of fighting him…fighting herself, and gave into the surety of his voice, arching her body up against his in consent.

The touch of his skin against hers broke down the last barriers she'd put up against him, and even if she'd wanted to….and she didn't want to…she was lost now…as hands became more insistent and demanding in their touch… and lips kissed and teased and grazed her throat…moving lower and leaving a trail of fire in their wake….

"Henry!"

Vicky sat bolt upright in bed, sheets falling around her in a swirl of red silk, heart pounding and breath coming in gasps.

It had been that dream…again…dream or nightmare she could never really decide. Either way she hadn't gotten a full nights sleep since…in nearly two months. She sighed, trying to even her breathing and slow her runaway heart by taking deep breaths as she lay back down…

"_Vicky…it's too dangers for you…it's too dangerous for me…come with me…"_

Henry's voice ran through her mind though, haunting her, forcing her to leave the sanctuary of the bedroom. But that didn't help, he was everywhere.

Which was to be expected of course, this was his apartment.

There was basically no where she could look without seeing him; lounging on the coffee table sketching her while she talked about a case; poised over the desk, pen and ink staining his fingers while she peered over his shoulder; sitting in the chair, her glasses perched on his nose while he riffled through the contents of her purse when she'd first met him…

He was always here.

But that was the problem too, because even though she could still see him whenever she closed her eyes, did see him in her dreams almost every night, he wasn't here.

She remembered the shock of showing up to his apartment that first day after Asteroth's return. She'd banged on his door for nearly five minutes straight, demanding that he answer her and not run away from this…from her. But he hadn't, and so her anger growing she grabbed the doorknob and pushed.

She'd never expected it to open.

Everything looked so normal, like he'd just stepped out and would be back at any moment. Furniture was still there, paintings on the walls, even the flowers in the vase by the door…but even at first glance it was a 'normal' that put her on edge, made her teeth unconsciously clench in her jaw.

Because everything was the same and yet it wasn't. His artwork wasn't scattered across the desk, works in progress posted on the wall, but neatly packaged in plastic envelopes to protect them from dust and air and boxed away from the light. His clothes were missing from the closet, and keepsakes like the painting of his father, the shining sword mounted on the wall were gone.

She found a note, by the door. And his keys.

At least it hadn't started with "Dear Vicky" that might have been too ironic for her to stand.

_You need to choose your battles in this world Vicky ~ you've chosen yours and I've chosen mine. The condo is yours if you want it, sell it if you don't._

_H._

At first she hadn't ever wanted to set foot in his home ever again. He'd deserted her, abandoned her just when things got rough and she needed him the most. It was unforgivable and in her pride she'd tossed the note and his keys in the trash before storming out.

If she were honest with herself though, she didn't actually believe that he was gone. He'd change his mind, come back and say that he could never leave her to face this alone…but the weeks went by and he didn't call…didn't stop by when she was working late and casually prop his feet on her desk…

And so as days turned into weeks and weeks slowly into months, she learned not to think about him. Not to wonder what he was doing, or who he might be with, in some far off country out of the reaches of Asteroth.

Apparently no matter how hard she tried to forget him it didn't stop the dreams though. They started when she'd first moved in. And came every night since then, leaving her gasping and wanting…unsatisfied.

It was Asteroth that finally broke her pride and forced her to come back to Henry's. It wasn't all that much changed for her weeks of absence…a little more dust, the flowers were dried and rotting in the vase. But it was still unquestionably filled with an overwhelming sense of him…

She'd stopped taking on new cases almost immediately, quickly wrapping up what she couldn't pass off to others and focused all her energy on finding Asteroth and sending him to hell. Literally. The search wasn't hard actually, he wasn't exactly hiding; no matter where he went there was a trail a mile long behind him of evil and just general mayhem and havoc. Homicide cases were already nearly double what they were in the entirety of last year, and it was only January. Suicide, abuse, robbery, it was as if all the crimes in the city were spiking, tempers flaring out of proportion, unless you knew the reason why. Cops were baffled, and exhausted. Everyone working double or triple shifts just to patrol a city that seemed to have gone mad overnight.

But Vicky knew why. More then that she was responsible for that why. She'd had a chance to send him back to hell, to save everyone from the evil that she'd unleashed onto the city and had chosen not to. She didn't regret her choice, and would do it again, but that didn't make her any less responsible. So this time she drove herself harder then she ever had--- to stop him, to try in any way that she could to mitigate some of the damage that he'd caused. She was, in a word, obsessed.

But the superhero gig didn't pay the bills, which must be why they always had day jobs as reporters or self made millionaires, and her landlord didn't seem to understand that saving the world would mean that her rent would be late this month…and the next…and the next. It was ironic because she'd never been working so hard in her life and was barely making enough to cover the business expenses. She and Coreen sought out every victim of Asteroth's evil, and tried to help where they could and find a lead where they couldn't. It was a sort of personal penance to her, and she made herself look at them, see the bruises and the eyes that had given up hope…faith…and remember their names.

But she couldn't make a difference living on the street, working from a box without electricity and internet and phone. And so, when the bills began to pile up and it became a choice between giving up the fight or her pride, she'd chosen her pride. Left her home, sold her belongings and moved in to Henry's condo.

Vicky leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, sipping hot tea laced with milk but knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep again tonight. Never could after the dream. So she sighed, stretching and walked back into the bedroom to get dressed and head into work. If she couldn't sleep, and she couldn't stay here without thinking of things that she'd forbidden herself to think of then she could at the very least get some work done. Coreen would berate her again for coming in early, Vicky could almost recite the lecture by heart after all this time, but she couldn't help it.

She'd chosen her battle and she wasn't going to give up until Asteroth was back in hell where he belonged.

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Henry crouched low, hands scooping up a measure of the red earth and letting it roll between his fingers, staining his palms before slowly falling back to the ground. The savannah stretched out in front of him, the landscape dotted with twisted yellow fever trees that seemed to glow in the darkness and the stars that lit up the sky.

He could see why she'd come here. It was so bright it was almost like having thousands of mini suns all shining in the night. It was almost like she hadn't lost the day.

Despite the darkness when leopards prowled in the long grass and monkeys howled from the treetops it was eerily silent as he walked. The large predators of Africa recognized a greater danger then themselves tonight and stayed quietly hidden in the shadows.

As fun as it had once been to marvel in his youth and power and challenge the great jungle cats, he was after bigger prey tonight. Someone who had escaped him time and time again and now he'd followed her from Toronto and left everything behind him. Everyone behind him.

As much as he'd told Vicky that it was the threat of Asteroth that had forced him to leave, and it had; that much power concentrated in the city and someone was sure to notice his… less then human nature and come after him believing him a demon, but…there was more to it as well. He had, in truth, been thinking about leaving even before Asteroth returned. It all went back to one night in the beginning of winter, when the first frost just touched the grass and he'd killed two women in his apartment at night. The sun had taken one of them that morning and he'd vowed that if he could prevent it he wouldn't give the other over to the day as well.

But it was more then even that if he were honest with himself…and at night with nothing but the far off horizon and sloping hills to stare at it was hard to keep this particular truth from invading his consciousness.

He couldn't stay and watch her continue to fight a hopeless battle…he couldn't wait and watch her lose and watch himself lose her. Better to leave and make a clean cut then have the wound festering for months with close and prolonged contact.

Because she couldn't win. No one could. Asteroth was here, in this plane and the best that anyone could hope to do was to keep him contained within his human bonds, unable to fully cross over because as long as he was prevented that, then humanity was safe from true evil. Oh, he could draw out and play upon people's darkest desires, make them commit horrible crimes, but he was only using something that was already there. Corrupting people to their base natures. But that was all, his real evil was still held at bay by flesh and blood and bone in hell.

But Vicky, god save her for he could not, was going to try to fight him. He knew her strengths, her fierce determination and the core of honor that made her one of the greatest people he had ever met. But despite all that, it would be those very qualities that he loved about her that would spell her doom. No one could stand against Asteroth, and it was suicide to even try, even if she was still alive now it was only because he

permitted it. Demons liked their games, and after so many centuries spent contained and constrained from acting directly in the world, even this small leeway would seem like freedom to finally play in the world of man. The only way to survive was to stay out of Asteroth's way.

Henry sighed, pushing thoughts of Vicky out of his mind like he did every night and brought his mind back to the task at hand. His task. His penance and sin wrapped up in the person of a girl with swirling dark hair, who for all outward appearances looked young, until you looked her in the eye and you saw darkness within to match the darkness that he'd condemned her to.

He'd gotten close only two weeks ago, been in time to stop her once she finally overcame the urge for self protection and tried to meet the dawn. She was close now…it was almost as if he could feel the path her feet had taken across the land and it drew him, a bond as strong as blood between them, connecting them.

"Where are you?" he whispered, a wind pushing at him drawing the last of the earth from his hand and blowing it in a trail leading to the east….towards the sun.

"I won't give up," Henry vowed to the night, to whoever might be listening or might turn a sympathetic ear to the promise of soul that had lived far longer then was anyone's right.

No matter how many other fights he walked away from this was one battle that he wasn't prepared to lose.

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Mike stretched back, hearing both the chair and his back crack from too long spent with him hunched over his desk. Sometimes he felt as old as this chair, worn smooth from years of long service with nicks and scars carved deep into the wood from where badges, handcuffs and odd buttons and belts had caught at the soft wood and left their mark.

Also like this chair lately it seemed like he never left the office. And if that meant that he was overworked, under valued and underpaid at least it was an excuse for his diminishing and almost non existent social life. No one jibbed him about what happened to late nights out with…former colleagues…or why he was always the last one to leave and the first one in the office come morning.

He was lucky to still have a job, or at least that's what he told himself days like today where he'd been sitting in this chair doing report after report for nearly 27 hours straight. Maybe today would be the day that the captain finally pulled him off desk duty and let him get back in the action. God knew they needed some help out there….things were literally going to hell and here he was, possibly one of only four people in the world who knew the real reason why and he was chained to a desk until the indeterminate and unknown future.

Ironically, while he wanted more then anything to see Asteroth back in hell where he belonged, the fact that he wasn't there was also probably the reason that he hadn't been fired outright. It was only the drastic rise in serious crimes in the city that had made the review board hearing go as well as it did…which was only something short of a firing squad without even a last cigarette.

He remembered the Crowley sitting all prim and proper, every button done up and every hair pulled tightly back into a French twist, at the other end of the table. She was flanked by the district supervisor, technically _her_ boss, and a couple of guys from Internal Affairs.

"Detective Celluci, you do know the reason we're all here correct?" her voice had the ring of a squad leader…_'ready?....set?....'_

"Yes, Captain." He answered…possibly, just possibly if he towed the line he might get off with a warning, a letter in his file and some serious pay cuts.

"And would you be so kind as to refresh our memories?"

…or possibly not. He'd be lucky to escape with his head on his shoulders, Dragon Crowley was going to blow fire and incinerate him.

"I left a task force meeting to pursue a lead, which led to the successful recovery of a kidnapped child, and the arrest of various members of one of the city's largest Chinatowns gangs." He nearly stopped there but his conscience wouldn't let him off the hook that easily…if nothing else the current situation in the city made those slight heroics seem less thing nothing in comparison.

"But due to the nature of the source and the time constraints I was unable to obtain approval before leaving the task force and am unable to reveal either my source or how I came into the information." Not as if you'd believe me if even if I did tell you…it's not every day that you get information from a demon that a vampire helps you to interpret while you're on the trail of your possessed friend's missing heart. Yeah, that's just a regular Tuesday at the office.

"And your communication of sensitive materials and information on ongoing cases to the public? **And** your increasing alienation of coworkers, lack of trust and suspicion?" Crowley nearly bit off the syllables.

"Excuse me, but none of that was ever proven Captain. It's all conjecture." Mike looked in surprise over at one of the dour fellows from IA…who ever would have thought that one of them would actually be on his side?

"And Detective Celluci does have an impressive record….he seems to have a knack for closing cases of an unusual nature," Mike stared, trying to keep his mouth from falling open as the other IA officer chimed in with support. He would have been pleased as punch if it hadn't been for the mention of that word….unusual.

Oh, he'd be the first to admit that lately his cases had been a little more then purse snatchers and domestic disturbance calls…unless the purse snatcher turned out to be a zombie and an incubus had gotten into abuse and battery. But that was his old life, when he'd been running after Vicky and she'd pulled him into her twisted world and he hadn't known how to get out. He'd almost lost his job because of 'unusual' after all…he didn't want to get it back that way too.

But sometimes you just don't get what you want.

"But his inability to work with his colleagues and unaccountability are serious character flaws that you can't just ignore,"

"No one's saying that you ignore them Captain," this time it was the district supervisor jumping to his defense. If this became any more surreal Mike was going to have to pinch himself to be sure that he wasn't dreaming it. Here he thought he was facing the firing squad and it turns out that people are just lining up to take a bullet for him.

"But assuredly you have to agree that we can't afford to lose someone of Detective Celluci's experience and track record just because of a few…indiscretions. Especially now."

That last rather cryptic reference wasn't lost on anyone in the room. You had only to look out the window to the bull pen to see that it was bustling and filled to capacity, new rookie cops in their brightly pressed uniforms trailing around after haggard senior officers as the police force took in basically any interested person to try and keep up with the crime on the streets. Even Crowley had dark circles under her eyes and the Internal Affairs officers were no better; their department seemed to be losing men like it was a fire sale as the head honcho's pulled them back to the local offices. It was rumoured that they were even denying retirement to pension aged cops until this unending crime spree finally dwindled down.

What everyone other then Mike believed was that it was going to get better. For them this was the darkness before the dawn, but Mike doubted if there ever would be a dawn again.

"I would recommend a letter of reprimand, coupled with ten hours teambuilding workshops and a review in a month's time."

"Internal Affairs is satisfied with that recommendation," one of the guys chimed in.

Which basically left the Dragon, smoke curling out of her mouth she was so mad at being backed into a corner, but she couldn't do anything but nod.

"Good! So glad that's settled!" The district supervisor packed up and bustled out so quickly Mike almost forgot to shake his hand as he was leaving.

The AI team was gone nearly as fast, a brief pat on the shoulder and a "good to have you back on the team," and they were out the door. It was hard to believe that he'd gotten off so easily…the last review hearing he'd witnessed had taken five full hours and that was before he'd been asked to give his character reference. This had barely been five minutes.

"If you think you're getting off that easily Detective you are sorely mistaken," Crowley said as she rounded the desk looking as dumbfounded as he was at the whole situation but mad as hell.

"You're on desk duty until further notice."

"But Captain, you need me on the streets…every officer is picking up extra shifts and the department's run ragged!"

"The department is my concern Celluci, you're on desk duty until I say otherwise. I want you right where I can see you, and be assured that I will be watching. One hint of misconduct, or unprofessional behaviour or associations and you'll be out on your ass without even the benefit of a hearing!"

Mike knew that she was right, it would be his second strike. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars….your career goes straight to hell without a get out of jail free card.

And so for the last month and a half he'd been good as a boy scout. Check reports, point out mistakes or missing information, sign off, file…a mechanical automaton and it never seemed to make a difference. The reports kept coming, the stacks on his desk never got any smaller, and he never got to get out of this chair.

But the mindless drone of repetition gave him some peace too, he could lose himself in the process of it all and not have to think about the consequences of his actions, of his choices…they weren't people to him, they were photographs to be catalogued, notes to be reviewed and names to be recorded, and here behind this desk, he was removed from the immediacy of it all.

Here he didn't have to fight, he wasn't a soldier in the heat of battle, he could just sit on the sidelines and record the score. But even here, he couldn't fail to notice that their team was losing.


	2. Chapter 2

Blood Ties Blood Bond ch. 2

Coreen wandered into the office about a quarter past eight in the morning, two steaming cups of coffee balanced in one hand while a bag of muffins tried to escape her clutches as she searched for her keys. Vicky thought buying breakfast on the way to work was extravagant and a luxury they could no longer afford, and given the way business was going Coreen agreed with her but every now and again she couldn't resist splurging. Vicky liked her morning coffee and it was the least Coreen could do. After all, Vicky had saved her life.

She shivered again at the memory, pausing keys in hand while the sensations of magic rushed over her as if it was yesterday and not months ago. She didn't remember much, couldn't point to exact things that she'd done or said, mostly it had been him controlling her actions and she was blissfully ignorant of their result. But it was the feeling of being suppressed, held in darkness within her own self that stuck with her. That and the feeling of evil, the taint of it that never seemed to leave her no matter how many showers she took or cleansing circles her wicca friends did.

Vicky had been wonderful, supportive and accepting; she was the one who suggested that Coreen might think about attending some group sessions for women who had been raped, or were victims of depression and abuse. She'd even gone steadily for the first month, listening to people share their stories, women and men who had experiences that were so much like her own…only for them the demons were abusive partners and their heartbreak was purely metaphorical.

But then they'd moved on from the last of what Coreen now came to call the B.A. cases, Before Asteroth, and Vicky started hunting out his victims like it was her mission in life to bear witness to all the suffering and hate humanity had to offer. She was obsessed and it was only the memory of what's she'd done for Coreen, of what they shared that kept Coreen coming back some days when it got too hard. Those days when she'd look at Vicky and wonder where the friend she loves had gone and when she was replaced with this hard immovable person who'd been as overtaken by Asteroth as surely as Coreen had, only Vicky wasn't possessed. At least not in the traditional sense.

She sighed, pushing away depressing thoughts and taking a deep breath of fresh brewed coffee before turning the keys and opening up for the day. It surprised her sometimes how much everything else could change and yet some things in life remained the same and untouched. The office looked much as it always had, comfortable chairs and warm wood tones made it inviting and almost cozy. A potted plant or two added an earthy feel that Coreen had come to appreciate.

There was a note on her desk from Vicky, but even that failed to surprise her; it wasn't unusual anymore for Vicky to spend late nights and then even earlier mornings at her desk in her relentless quest to find the next person and next who might finally lead her to Asteroth.

Vicky's scratchy almost illegible handwriting was familiar by now and Coreen could interpret it without much trouble…

_Gone to see Annie. Hope to get a lead,_

_be back by lunch but don't wait around if you're working this aft._

_~Vicky_

Vicky had offered to let her go when they'd started working on the new case load, and then again when finances became tight and she'd had to reduce Coreen's salary. Coreen had refused both times. She knew that Vicky held herself responsible for Asteroth's actions while he was here, but it wasn't Vicky's fault. She'd chosen to save Coreen and the world was suffering for that choice. Coreen was alive, but from what they'd found already many more people had already died. There was no way that she could shy away from that, pretend that it hadn't happened or that she wasn't responsible. She kept telling herself that if Vicky could do it, could come in day after day and face the evil that they had released into the world then so could she. So she took a second job, back at the café where she'd worked when she first met Vicky. It wasn't the best pay, but tips were good and the hours were quite flexible which was worth something in and of itself.

Coreen deposited black coffee, double sugar with a muffin on Vicky's desk, pausing only long enough to stick a post it on it that said that 'cold coffee's better then no coffee', before heading back to the front and her own desk.

She used their one remaining lap top to browse the most current murder and heinous crimes, easily hacking the police database and flagging files that looked like they might be related to Asteroth or cases that Dr. Modhavan mentioned in casual weekly emails. Coreen and her had started a fictitious book club and regularly sent chatty emails back and forth mentioning specific names and dates of various…books…that might be of interest.

Things would have been easier if Mike had been able to help out but lately there had been…well…lets say a break down of communication between Mike and Vicky and so that avenue of information was closed.

Coreen made it almost three hours before the queasy feeling in her stomach grew to proportions that she just couldn't continue to ignore. She didn't know how Vicky could do it day after day as a cop, reading and seeing these horrific crimes and not just feel sick. All those people…their lives…it settled like a lump of lead within her, some solid weight that she carried and could never put down, never forget.

She checked her watch, it wasn't time for Vicky to be back yet, if she even came back at all today, and she didn't have to start at the café until after 3:00. But she couldn't face it anymore.

Coreen jumped up suddenly decisive. There was something that she could do, something that would be both a break and that might help. She'd been avoiding it but maybe now was the time, after all if she couldn't even have the courage to walk through a door how was she ever going to be able to help Vicky whenever they found Asteroth? And with Mike and Henry both inexcusably absent, she wasn't about to abandon Vicky now.

A short fifteen minute subway ride and walk later and she stood before the door that was one of the last things she could remember of a day over two months ago. The neon sign was burnt out but still visible through the dusty windows. The store was closed, it was one of the first trails that she and Vicky had tracked down…or Vicky had really, all Coreen did was write the address and information down on a piece of paper. She hadn't wanted to ever come back to this place, as if its very bricks and plaster contained his evil and would reach out to drag her back. She didn't want to go in now, but if she was to be any use in this fight-- and she had sworn to herself that she was done being the damsel in distress--- then she'd have to face her demons. Eventually literally, and this was a good a place as any to start preparing herself for it.

She broke one of the small square windows that surrounded the door frame, knocking out the coloured glass and reaching her arm in through the hole. She half expected something to grab her from the darkness and her heartbeat sped up as she fumbled around blindly for the lock. She could feel every swirl of stale air across her hand, sure that they were to be followed by hair, claws and nails ripping at her skin…the hot pant of breath or deep growl would sound at any moment. It seemed like eternity before, finally her fingers touched metal and she quickly slid the bolt open sighing in relief as she withdrew her hand as quickly as possible. Some help she was going to be, scared of shadows and a door.

She stood, not allowing herself to think about what she was doing or let the goosebumbs running up her spine make her reconsider or run away and opened the door, walking into a room that she had almost every week since she'd first started at the University of Toronto years ago.

Unlike the office with its' cozy and familiar surroundings, this room little resembled the bravado she remembered. The misty curtains hung in tatters and were stained by dust and mould. The round table was topped over in the middle of the room and the heavy smell of stale incense lingered in the air. It seemed so much more menacing, even in daylight then she had ever considered it before…but so many things were difference since Asteroth.

She walked past the front room, trying not to look at dark marks on the wallpaper that her mind tried to convince her were dried blood spatter and not innocent water marks. The curtained doorway led to a back room shop, the shelves and jars still filled with supplies untouched despite the owners' long absence. Coreen had shopped here many times, trusting that the psychic's interest in the occult and magic were as harmless as her own love charms and small protections or good luck spells. But as she passed she noted labels curled and worn with age on blackened and distorted bottles behind the counter that she'd never seen before. Not wanting to investigate further she hurried past and found the door she was searching for behind the counter.

It was no more then a closet really, and she couldn't even say for sure why she knew that whatever was behind it was important but something drew her to it. The door was old, half covered by the wallpaper, tiny green stems and faded yellow roses curing over its edges. She found the handle but it wouldn't budge, finally pulling and pushing it gave way breaking one of her nails and drawing blood.

She stared in surprise at what lay within…it was a mismatch of almost everything imaginable and piles upon piles up to her waist, random clothes hanging from a rod above head level.

"And I thought that Henry was a packrat…" Coreen mused, sorting through the mess. There were single pairs of shoes without a mate, hopelessly tangled Christmas lights, and old hat boxes, light shades and almost anything and everything that never belonged in a closet.

Coreen would have given up long ago but for that feeling that there was something here that drove her on through layers of musty clothing and broken tennis rackets. Finally, pushed far to the back was a file box, heavy when she picked it up and lifted it out. Even through the cardboard she could feel the evil soaking into her hands. This was why she feared coming back here…this box was the root of her nightmares and why she'd felt as if an animal was going to rip into her hand while she stuck it recklessly into the dark.

She pulled off the lid, only once to confirm what she already knew to be inside…but her eyes demanded proof.

Inside were two volumes of books stacked so that their aged and worn spines were visible, betraying the hand bound paper that leaked from beneath the covered. Blood red lettering and symbols were etched into the leather surface that whispered of power and destruction and touched something deep within her that she'd rather not acknowledge. Coreen pushed the feeling back down, shoving the top on the box and running out the store, back into the light.

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Vicky kneaded sleep out of her eyes as the cab pulled to a stop before the white painted house with columns and wrap around porch that better belonged in the deep south then a suburb of Toronto. The driveway stretched long behind her, guarded on both sides by tall oak trees and long expanses of perfectly manicured lawn. Vicky could almost convince herself that she was in some posh neighbourhood or social to-do rather then an asylum for the criminally insane.

She reluctantly eased out of the smooth leather interior of the cab, the seat being the only safe moments of sleep that she ever seemed to get these days. But that wasn't the only reason why she wasn't looking forward to entering the building. A lot of that was to do with who she was here to see, and why.

Because in the end it always came down to the why. And the why was her. Why was the city going to hell? Her. Why were people being killed, lives ruined? Her. It all came down to her, because it was her fault that Asteroth was here, was free to work his evil. She could have sent him back to hell, and while she didn't regret her choice for an instant, it didn't absolve her of responsibility for what he did while he was here.

And so she made herself walk away from the comparative safety of the cab, slowly up the steps and through the front door, leaving the daylight behind for the sterile fluorescent lights and clinical atmosphere of the hospital.

"Family or Friend?" came the automatic question from the faceless nurse behind the wired glass at the front desk.

"Business," Vicky replied, showing her identification and license as a Private Investigator in Ontario. "I'm here to see Ann Lywellin"

That as usual caught the woman's attention.

"Don't get too many people coming around looking for Annie."

"Relatives hired me," Vicky lied, becoming so comfortable with the deception that it rolled off her tongue.

"Distant relatives," she amended at the woman's skeptical look. "They're looking for some answers to what happened, can you blame them?"

The woman nodded, looking down again and back to her work quickly dismissing Vicky.

"It'll be just a moment for your pass Ms. Nelson, please have a seat."

Vicky had repeated the same sentences and phrases so many times that by now she'd figured out what worked and what didn't. Trying to explain what was happening didn't, acknowledging that no one knew what was happening and that they wanted answers apparently did. The lie held the ring of truth to it, which Vicky found through experience, made it more easy to believe.

Rather then sinking into one of the seats lining the wall on the other end of the hallway, Vicky stood, browsing the colourful posters about a spring flower pressing class starting next month and a winter festival that had happened over three weeks ago. Money apparently translated as well into madness as it did in other areas of life.

"Ms. Nelson?" the monotone voice dragged her attention away from the dull crème walls. "Your pass is ready" she passed a square of paper through a hole in the glass near the sill.

"And Annie is being brought into the visiting room….I assume you know the rules? The doctor will allow no more then ten minutes."

"Yes, thank you" Vicky peeled the paper backing off the sticker proclaiming her name, date and the word VISITOR in large red letters, and placed it in full view on her coat before she was buzzed through the security door and admitted.

The hall was much like any other hospital or institution hallway. It was unsettling how much an asylum resembled a government office, or school. She tried to ignore the similarities of faded paint and standard extra wide doorways as she made her way to a room with the words 'solarium' on a plaque above the door. Pretty poor excuse for a solarium today, Vicky thought; the sun was hidden deep behind clouds that even this late looked burdened with snow.

The weather was still unusually cold, March usually brought sun and a relief from the winter snows, but this year the cold seemed to grip the city refusing to leave. Ice slicked the street and fog seemed to linger well past when the sun should have burnt it away. Odd, Vicky thought, that with a demon loose in the city they weren't having a heat wave….when hell froze over indeed. Maybe the Vikings had it right…wasn't it them who believed that hell was a frozen wasteland?

As Vicky looked out over the grounds, she could believe it. She wasn't as much of a skeptic anymore.

"Ms. Nelson?" a male voice behind her made her turn, adjusting the glasses on her nose as if that would bring the man into focus. Sometimes it seemed like her eyesight was getting worse by the day. She walked away from the windows, finally seeing a tall man in a nurses' blue smock standing in the middle of the room with a young girl in a wheelchair.

"We're having a good day today, but doctors orders are only ten minute please. I'll be waiting right outside the door if you need anything," and with a competent look that Vicky assumed was supposed to be reassuring, he closed the double doors behind him.

Vicky steeled herself, as she watched the door swing slowly open and closed with his passage before finally laying still. But she only had ten minutes.

"Hello Annie," she said turning to look at the girl. Or not actually at her so much as in her general direction, before she forced herself to meet the girls' eyes.

It was like falling into madness looking at Annie and as always it brought back the first time again…

Annie had been one of the firsts that Vicky had been able to track down…track down alive that was. It seemed like every now and again Asteroth liked to keep one around to play with.

Dr. Modhavan had called, which in and of itself was surprising, but what made Vicky sit up and take notice was the tremor that she'd heard in the competent medical examiner's voice.

"Vicky, there's something you need to look in to."

No hello, no pleasantries, and apparently this wasn't something that was going to make it into her official report either. It wasn't something that regular police could handle either.

"What is it?" Vicky wasn't about to turn away any help that she could get. Still stinging from her first encounter with Mike since he'd stormed out of Henry's apartment that night last November, and not getting much of anywhere on her own, she was willing to accept leads from the crazy guy predicting the apocalypse on the corner by now.

"I got a family in today…triple homicide."

"I hate to be the realist here but that's not all that unusual anymore. Do the cops know who did it?"

"The youngest daughter…Vicky she's only seven."

Vicky took a deep breath, "insanity plea then?"

"I can't imagine anything else….they were tortured Vicky…cut…burned…"

"And you're saying that a seven year old could do that to her family? To fully grown adults without them stopping her?"

"Somehow yes, and Vicky…I'm saying that she did it to them and herself…when they stopped bleeding…stopped moving…she said they stopped _**playing**_."

Even after everything that she'd seen as a beat copy, and then a detective, in Henry's world and her own, that touched something…some nerve…some primal sense of evil.

"Her name's Ann, Annie Lywellin. She should be at Mounthaven by the end of the week."

"Annie, it's Vicky. Do you remember me?"

The girl barely moved, but hummed slowly to herself. Vicky tried and failed to identify the melody…some nameless tune from childhood that seemed macabre in this setting.

"Annie, I need to talk to you about your family. Do you remember them?" Vicky held up a photo, cut out of the newspaper it was folded and worn, the black and white images of a man and woman with two blonde haired little girls on a beach.

Annie didn't even glance up, she could have been alone in the room for all the attention she paid to Vicky's questioning. But that was a good day after all.

"Annie," Vicky pushed harder, kneeling down to be at the girls level and trying not to be bothered by the scars that streaked her face like a child who had gotten into her mother's lipstick for the first time. Tried not to remember how the detectives horror had so vividly translated onto the page when Coreen had managed to finally track down the report. They'd found the girl slicing cuts into her own skin when her family had all stopped bleeding.

"I need you to remember why Annie, you told the policeman that he made you, told you how to play with them. Do you remember who he is?"

Still nothing…as usual the girl sat there like a life sized porcelain doll humming away. Vicky tried every time to get her talking but it never worked…until…

"I need you to remember…Asteroth." Vicky shuttered with the name, suppressing it and hoping that it didn't show.

Suddenly bright blue eyes caught and held her own, and the room fell into silence.

"Can you tell me about Asteroth, Annie?"

The girl was breathing faster now, eyes darting around the room as if she expected the demon to materialize in a puff of smoke before them, like in some old Faust movie. But what made Vicky edge slightly back was that she didn't look afraid.

"He speaks to me. Whispers. They don't believe that he is, but he tells me things…that's why they won't let me play with the others anymore."

"What sort of things does he tell you Annie?"

She just chuckled, rocking now in her chair and Vicky knew that she was running out of time.

"Annie, where is he? Can you tell me where he is?"

Suddenly the girl stopped and looked right at Vicky, her hands, the only part of her still moving, twisted her shirt into knots almost as if they weren't under her control.

"Don't worry, Vicky. He hasn't forgotten about you," Annie reached out, faster then Vicky would have believed and caught her wrist, her touch sending fire streaking through her marks.

"He's coming for you," slowly Annie drew Vicky's hand closer, while she struggled leaning her whole weight back but it made no difference—still Annie was somehow able to pull her closer.

"He talks about you…about how, soon, he'll have you…taste you, make you scream for him, louder then you ever could have as that vampire's whore." Annie's nails, even cut short had broken her skin and now blood curled down Vicky's arm, running over the marks.  
Annie licked her lips, watching the blood with fascination.

"He'll come for you…and taste you …and then he'll be free! FREE!" her voice soared up into a high soprano that only a child could reach, screaming the word over and over, before the nurse ran back in, followed by a doctor with a needle, and another nurse both struggling to hold the girl in her chair as she screamed and refused to let go of Vicky's arm.

It wasn't until Annie was unconscious that they were finally able to pry her fingers off, Vicky's wrist bearing the purple-blue bands of their bruises.


	3. Chapter 3

Blood Ties Blood Bond ch. 3

Kate walked out the doorway of the two story brick side-split, ducking under the yellow police tape and nodding to the junior officer who stood on the porch keeping back the crowd. He jerked his head off to the left, where the house met the gravel driveway, a luxury of two cars pulled in with still enough room for her cruiser behind. In a city with this many people, space really was at a premium, and this driveway was bigger then her apartment!

She found him leaning up against the furthest car, far from the lights and any onlookers. Kate paused a moment, trying to come up with the right thing to say, trying to remember what had been said to her…but she knew that words would mean little.

"You okay?" she berated herself almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Five minutes stalling inside thinking of what to say and that's the best she could come up with? Well, there goes her aspiring dream of being a world famous writer!

"Yeah," the rookie said shakily… "Just gimme a second." He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, picking up his hat from where he'd let it fall to the ground.

"Homicide can be pretty rough," Kate sympathized, trying her best to let him know that puking your guts out after what they'd just seen was the natural reaction. Had nearly been her own her first time off a desk and in the field.

"Usually you've got to work years doing Jail warden and working the streets before they even put you on a desk in the homicide department." Great, now she was coming off sounding like he should be lucky to have the chance to be throwing up behind a murder suicide. She'd better shut up before she ended up giving him a complex and sending him straight for the fourth floor and the unit psychologist.

"This whole arrangement is new," she said, giving it one last try. "Rookies shadowing Detectives, no one expected you—anyone to be able to deal with this sort of thing on the first day."

Kate sighed in defeat as he just nodded and pushed himself up and away from the metal support of the car. She tried her hardest not to remember him, eager and keen that morning; getting her coffee, picking up reports and basically being so underfoot that she thought if she was going to trip on him every time she turned around. It had even made Mike smile, and not much of anything did that these days. Not that he had to deal with a little Mini-me of his own either.

She slid into the drivers seat, pausing for a moment before starting the engine and heading back to the station. She had at least two more stops to make before calling it a night but she figured that he was done. If he showed up again tomorrow she could fill him in….if not, well he was the first one to be unaccountable the morning after. Wasn't even in the first fifty.

"How do you do it?" he said finally, voice small and speaking into his hat that lay abandoned on his lap.

"You know they asked that same question of people during the war. The only answer they could give, for why they put their lives in danger, their families' lives, why they lived with fear and didn't just sit back watching horrible things happening all around them…was that they couldn't imagine not doing it. They couldn't sit by and do nothing while people died."

Kate knew it wasn't an answer that would help him, but it was the only answer that she could give. Because she didn't know why it stopped bothering her, when the violence and hate that she witnessed day in and day out had ceased to affect her. She had no answers about how to turn the humanity within you off. You just did or you didn't survive.

"But…but that was war."

"So is this."

--------------------------------------------------

Vicky reached out, hand grasping the brass doorknob before pulling away, wincing. The marks of Annie's fingers were still dark bands on across her wrist, uniting one side of Astseroth's circular brand with the other, like a second ring binding her….marking her as surely as Asteroth had.

She shook off the thought, transferring files and coat to that hand and using the other to open the door. Must have just pulled some tendons or something…

"Coreen?" she called, walking in. She didn't like to surprise Coreen these days….she'd been jumpier then usual, understandably but Vicky had thought that after the first few months, she'd be able to move on, but lately it seemed like Coreen was just being pulled back into it all. Vicky worried that working these cases would make her relive it all again, but it wasn't until recently that she'd noticed a change in Coreen…like she was trying to push herself too far, too hard too fast.

Vicky glanced around, not finding any evidence that Coreen was still here; her coat was gone, laptop closed and cold on the desk, and the stone cold coffee and muffin in the back office confirmed it. Tomorrow, she'd have a talk with Coreen, tell her to take some time off. Get out of the city or something, have a break.

Vicky sighed, collapsing back into the chair, feeling it swivel slightly with her weight as she put her feet up, leaning back. She wished that she could take her own advice, have a break, an hour, a moment when this didn't haunt her. Sometimes she thought that maybe Henry had the right idea, getting away from all of this. She looked out the window, the sun just sinking below the horizon, the clouds lit up with pink and red, still heavy with snow that refused to fall.

Was it dark where he was already? Or has his night come and gone and he was lying down to sleep away the dawn?

If she let her mind wander, just a little, she could imagine that she was with him, body curled beside him, feeling his hands and the red silk of the sheets caressing her skin….She leaned back farther, feeling the wood of the chair back and sides become his strong arms holding her, stroking up her arms and resting over her neck, his breath warm beside her ear and her neck tiled back in expectation…breathless…

….."Vicky….."

She jerked herself awake, not sure if she'd been dreaming or not…but chills traveled up her spine and her breaths came in gasps. She leaned forward, resting her head on the desk, feeling its cool surface calm the heat in her face and waited while her heart beat slowed down and until her breathing was steady.

If she didn't get some sleep soon…her eyes wandered to the desk drawer and her fingers played idly over the handle before silently sliding it open. Inside rested the orange and white plastic bottle, the label proclaiming warnings about not driving or operating heavy machinery. She pulled the bottle of sleeping pills out, shaking it back and forth and hearing the small yellow pills rattle inside mesmerizingly, before putting it back in the drawer and firmly pushing it closed. She'd sworen only as a last resort….

She sat back, eyes picking out the large black square that was the phone on the desk….before she could think about it, or lose the courage and talk herself out of it she picked up the handset and dialed.

She didn't know the voice on the other end of the phone, but that wasn't surprising. The last time she'd stopped by she hadn't recognized even half of the people there anymore.

"Detective Celluci, homicide," she said when the disembodied voice finished with the requisite preamble.

"Just a moment."

She waited while it rung through, fingers tapping out a random rhythm on the desk's surface as time stretched and she had double and even triple thoughts about this.

"Celluci," the voice was so sudden, emerging out of the background music that it took her by surprise. It was just so good to hear his voice, it had been so long….they used to talk nearly every day, even after she'd left the police force and they hadn't been partners it they still kept in touch in some way or another….until last November. Henry's world had come between then and shattered something within Mike.

"Hello?"

She shook herself back to the present, blinking. "Mike, hey it's me,"

Brief silence met her. "Vicky…" he whispered her name and she could almost see him unconsciously hunching down at his desk, one hand pushing back through his hair.

"Listen," she frantically searched around, pushing papers to the far corners of her desk looking for the small table top clock that Coreen had bought her when the numbers on the one on the wall grew too small to see anymore. 8:22…too late for dinner…that's the problem with wild impulse decisions, she thought, you didn't have a plan and you could end up blundering in without any idea of what to do or say.

"Mike, um…I was just working late and got to thinking…do you have time to meet up for a late…coffee or something?" the words tumbled out in a rush, like some teenager asking her first crush out on a date and Vicky felt a blush darkening her cheeks and she held her breath as the silence stretched.

"I really can't Vic," the voice sounded remote, like a stranger on the other end of the line.

"Oh…okay, some other time," she tried to keep the note of disappointment from her tone, force light and cheer that she didn't feel.

"Things are just crazy around here, hours of reports left to do…cases to wrap up."

"I remember when we used to use any excuse to avoid paperwork," she said, reaching for any reason to keep him on the phone, keep him talking to her so she wouldn't feel so alone in the night. "Have you gone and turned into some by-the-book cop on me Mike?"

"I'm lucky to still **be** a cop remember?" he said, stripping all the teasing from her words like a splash of ice water in the face. "So yes, I'm towing the line, and I can't just walk out of here right now because you call."

Vicky swallowed, taking a deep breath…time…they just needed time to get past this, things would get back to normal…just give it time.

"Okay," she said, finally when she was sure that her voice wouldn't shake or break and betray her. "ummm…give me a call when things settle down alright?"

"Sure, when things settle down."

-----------------------------------------

Mike hung up the phone and leaned back, rubbing his eyes, before letting his fingers trail back through his hair and knotting behind his head. He looked up and met Crowley's eyes, watching him from across the room. Waiting for him to screw up.

He forced himself to relax, unknotting the coiled muscles in his shoulders that were tight with tension and nodding at her, before stretching his arms in front of him and sliding the nearest pile closer. He flipped open the manila cover, eyes skimming over photographs, the blood seeming bright even in black and white, and random words seeming to jump out as if they were in bold type; suicide…murder…mutilation… You generally didn't see the best of humanity working homicide, but lately it had seemed like the very worst was taking over. As if hell were trying to crawl out one individual act after another.

"Mike?"

He looked up to see Kate standing near him, almost dwarfed by the paperwork that was slowly engulfing his desk.

"Have you been here long?" he asked, meaning both standing beside him and back from the field. The mood of the station room had been edgy of late. You could always tell just by walking into the bull pen how bad things were on the outside; usually there was some friendly joking, rivalry….but when things got tough, there was this air of tense caution in the squad room. No one said anything that could be misconstrued or cause a grudge, because you didn't know if that person would make it back from patrol that night or not. Much longer like this and something, or someone was going to break.

"We just got back," Kate said, nodding over one shoulder at a pale faced young guy who Mike didn't know. His uniform was still crisp and pressed, and if you overlooked the traces of vomit on his shoe he could have been straight from academy graduation that morning. Come to think of it, remembering his own graduation and smiling, the vomit might fit too.

Kate looked Mike over while he scrutinized the rookie. Too much time inside under fluorescent lights had given his skin a pale unhealthy tone underneath the remnants of a summer tan. His hair was disheveled, clothing rumpled like he'd been wearing it for more then one day and his tie lay handing over the shade of the desk light.

"Looks like he's about had it," Mike commented idly.

"Yeah, and he's not the only one," Kate mumbled looking at Mike in concern, before he glanced up surprised and met her eyes and she recovered: "I'm dead beat, listen, if you haven't eaten yet," and from the pile of cases overflowing the To Be Filed box on his desk it was a pretty safe bet that he hadn't been out of the office or had more then donuts all day, "Why don't we go grab a bite and you can keep me awake so I don't fall asleep in my food!"

She laughed, smiling at him and Mike felt himself drawn towards her lightheartedness in this world that was growing increasingly dark.

"Chinese?" he asked, levering himself out of the chair and grabbing his jacket from the hook.

"Sounds good Partner."

Mike paused, slipping one arm through the sleeve. "I thought he was your partner now," he said, indicating the new guy behind her.

"Maybe…" she drawled, leaning in conspiratorially close and slipping her arm through his. "But he's got some pretty big shoes to fill!"


	4. Chapter 4

2

Blood Ties; First Blood Ch. 4

Henry lounged against the side wall of the bar watching strangers walk past, usually in groups but occasionally coupled pairs moved by, arms and hands entwined so lost in their love that they barely noticed him watching. His eyes narrowed to slits, barely open and just listened to the sounds of boot heels and shoes clicking on the cobblestones. You could get lost in the sound of it all… It took him back centuries, to the last time he'd been in Budapest…things had been different then, but some things never changed and in this section of the old city he could almost believe it was as it had been. But then he had a reason to want to escape into the past then, nothing now seemed nearly as easy now as it had then, but then hindsight was always perfect.

His ears picked out something of a familiar rhythm from the crowd that niggled at his consciousness and drew him up from the wall and out of the shadows. Finally. He'd followed the trail across the continent, made more difficult and prolonged since he could only travel at night, but then so could she and it was deliberate this game of cat and mouse they seemed to be playing. He knew she was close, but this seemed almost too easy. Too much like the first time. But maybe she was as tired of this pretense as he was and was ready for it to just be over.

His eyes searched the dark streets, seeking the source of the familiar step, a hint of vanilla traveling on the breeze drawing his gaze to the far corner of the square. There, a flash of blonde—now that was surprising—and she ducked in the alleyway behind a restaurant with potted trees strung with little white Christmas light. Yes, this was going to be like the first time after all.

He move, faster then sight, a mere breeze through the crowds, all hunger and tiredness forgotten for the moment as he closed in. The alley was a dead end, running straight up against the back of another building, making the maze of architecture of different eras always both startling and familiar after so long to him.

He could hear her heart beat, coming from the darkness further down, but despite that he stopped, pausing just inside the mouth of the alley, just off the main street. He didn't want to scare her away, although he was fairly certain that she hadn't been running out of fear this whole time. Something else had driven her, but it was just as powerful.

He waited, wondering if she was going to make the first move and then realizing that it had been his all along.

"This brings back memories," he offered, neutral in his words and his tone. "A dark night, sheltered by trees in the middle of a busy city."

"All we're missing is a demon and we'd have a good déjà vu going," her voice was soft, the tones low and unidentifiable in the dark, but something stirred in Henry, his blood pumping a little faster. She was here, now.

"It's not then though, that life is past and neither of us can pretend that it is any different."

"I think I'm aware of that particular fact," she said, bitterness rising her voice until Henry could hear her well in the dark. Hear that in fact it wasn't who he was expecting after all.

He moved forward, hands at her throat faster then the breeze that stirred her hair at his passage. Hands tightening he pushed her back against the wall, pinning her in place.

"Who are you? What have you done?" he looked into blue eyes, in a darkly tanned face that was framed by bright blonde hair, the body trendily thin brushed against him. Totally unfamiliar but the gaze that he met in those eyes was someone who he could never mistake…or forget.

"Oh, what's a little possession between us, Henry?" the painted lips angled upwards in a sneer.

"Why?"

"You know why."

And he did. It was clear as the day she sought, and he denied her. He'd been too close. That night in Africa he'd nearly touched her again, and that couldn't be allowed. Couldn't because the last time he'd touched her it had been to rip her life apart, and she would never forget that. Could never forgive him that. But he couldn't let her go either, they were bound, his blood flowed within her and he could track her to the end of the world and just nearly had.

"I can't walk away from this. I can't let you die…again."

"And I can't live like this…as this." Hate thickened her voice and something like resolve settled in her eyes.

She moved against, just a brush again like the first, but this time there was purpose in it, her hips swaying across him, hands leaving where they were hanging onto the wall and settling over his chest. She tilted her head slightly, blonde hair falling away to reveal a small line of blood behind one ear. He felt his breath coming faster, teeth lengthening onto his lips as he watched her, felt her.

"What excites you more, vampire," she asked, malice in the words, "this body? Or the blood?"

"Both," he answered, biting out the truth around fangs that ached now his desire was so strong.

"I can't live with that," she said, eyes more sad then angry now, although he could still see the hints of hate in their depths. He bent his head forward, teeth grazing her skin before the girl screamed, all traces of the familiar presence in her gone, a stranger looking into his eyes with nothing but fear.


	5. Chapter 5

Blood Ties; First Blood Chapter 5;

Vicky sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing even as her back arched off the silk sheets. She should have known better then to try and get some sleep after what had happened earlier at the office, but she couldn't help it, it seemed like all she wanted to do was fall into sleep and dream…to escape the horror that defined her days more and more.

She took deep breaths, trying to erase the memory…the dream so real it made her wonder whether now was the dream or before—the feel of his hands hot on her skin and sat up, brushing back slightly damp hair and resting her head in her hands.

There was something off about today that she just couldn't shake…something that just keep niggling at the back of her mind and she couldn't quite connect the dots enough to see it. When this used to happen and she was on the force Mike could always talk her through it, they'd each see the gaps that the other missed, puzzling and riddling out the problem faster and better then either of them could alone. But Mike was turning away from her and after all she'd done she couldn't even really blame him.  
Vicky tried not to think about the last real time they'd talked, in the hallway outside the station the night that Asteroth had returned for her. She had wanted so badly to just say yes, that all of it didn't matter and he was right…but then she'd watched Coreen die and knew that she couldn't live with herself if any of her friends were ever put into that kind of threat, that danger because of her again. That was the real reason why she'd chosen to bring Coreen back. Oh she let them all believe that it was some altruistic preservation of life, but really deep down it was selfishness pure and simple. If even one of them died because of her, because of something that was after her, because of these damn tattooed brands on her skin, there was no way that she would ever be able to live with that.

She raked her hands through her hair again, watching as the blonde brown strands were pushed out of her eyes although her vision was still blurred nonetheless. With effort Vicky pulled her mind back to what had been buzzing in her head all day.

There was something different about Annie.

Oh it was the same little girl, the same scars and straw coloured hair, but this time there had been something else looking out of the girl's eyes. Something sinister and evil, something older then those child's eyes could ever be.

Her mind went over the interview again, trying to pinpoint the moment when it had changed…when she'd stopped talking to Annie and something else had been there instead.

She had it now…the parallel so clear that it gave her chills to think that she hadn't seen it before, hadn't seen it immediately. Because it had been exactly like looking into Coreen's eyes, her face but knowing that the thing that looked back wasn't Coreen, wasn't her friend.

Annie had been possessed, not by Asteroth directly perhaps, but by another demon who was working with him. The ranks were being formed and the lines drawn, demons siding with Asteroth who was offering them a way out of hell and the entirety of humanity as their playthings. And all they had to do was deliver the key to their door out— all they had to do was bring him Vicky.

----------------------------------------------------

Coreen was jolted out of sleep by a pounding at her door, the fast incessant knocking matching the beat of her heart in her throat. She was frozen for a moment, flashes of the demons and creatures drawn in black ink on the weathered pages of the grimore she'd retrieved earlier that day suddenly becoming life sized and looming in every shadow around her.

"Coreen, it's me—open up!" Vicky's voice sounding from the hall made her collapse in relief so genuine she felt almost queasy for a moment, before she grabbed her black silk robe of the end of the bed and walked over to the door.

"Just a second," she called, pulling the ties on the robe closed and reaching for the first of the large shiny deadbolts decorating the inner surface of the door. Only the first of them was original, its metal surface flicked with paint from when she'd first moved in. The others all gleamed betraying their recent addition, a small private concession to her growing fear of the things that lurked in the dark.

She paused before turning the last lock, leaning forward and looking through the small peep hole to be sure that it really was Vicky who stood outside and not something that only looked and sounded like her. But there was no mistaking that particular half annoyed, but mostly impatient stance and the exacerbated sigh she gave at the delay. A demon at least would probably have been vain enough to run a brush through its hair before going out, even if it was the middle of the night.

Vicky pushed past her nearly as soon as she open the door, the stress showing through at the seams in how she paced, her anxiety filling the small space of Coreen's apartment.

"I'd say good morning, but I don't know if it qualifies before the sun is up," Coreen said, stifling a yawn with one arm.

"Oh sorry," Vicky looked outside and then down at her watch, as if just then realizing that it was the middle of the night and Coreen had been asleep. "I haven't been sleeping much and I guess I just forgot what time it was."

Coreen shrugged thinking that the first part of that was obvious from the bruised circles that had taken up residence under Vicky's eyes these past few weeks.

"Can I get us some tea or something before the explanation?" Coreen said, giving up on sleep and turning toward the small semi divided off portion of her one room bachelor apartment that made up the kitchen. She ran the water until hot to the touch, before filling the kettle and putting it on the stove.

Vicky watched her while she busied around the kitchen, finding cups and sugar and pulling tea bags out of a tin. Coreen's apartment was more subdued then she might have imagined; she had pictured black walls and furniture and well…something more like Henry's place filled with gothic art and gargoyles then the rather sparse environment that greeted her. Oh there was one black wall and one a deep blue, but the others were normal beige and the light shades had beads and sequins, the cups that Coreen brought over to a small table a black goblet set the twin of the red ones she'd broken in that never ending day. But it looked almost half lived in, as if Coreen had just moved in and hadn't had time to unpack yet, books and pages still scattered on the floor.

Vicky shook her head, she was developing a tendency to daydream…or nightdream as the time may be. But this time at least she knew why. She'd run over here so quickly she hadn't had a chance to think of what to say…if she was truthful she didn't want to think about what to say, because she'd spent the last few weeks trying to keep Coreen protected and insulated from this and now she had to ask her to dive into the deep end after she'd nearly drown before.

Coreen set the cups down on the table and looked over at Vicky: she stood fiddling with the end of some fringe on a table lamp, eyes skimming the pages strewen on the floor. Coreen took a deep breath to explain, before she realized that Vicky didn't really see what she was looking at.

"So what's up?" Coreen asked, trying to re-direct that detective mind before it got her into trouble. "Is the world going to end in the next five minutes or have you just realized your undying love for me and couldn't wait to let me know?"

"I need you to find out everything you can about demon possession." Nice and quick like pulling off a band aide, but Vicky couldn't make herself look back at Coreen to see the frozen expression grow on her face.

"If you can't, that's okay," Vicky said quickly, feeling guilty for even thinking that asking would be okay.

"No," Coreen said, taking a deep breath to still the shivering that always seemed to start when she thought about what had happened. "I can't hide from this forever, and I don't want to. You need me Vicky, you can't do it all alone. I can do the research, just tell me what you need to know."

Vicky sighed, raking a hand through her hair and putting into even more disarray, a golden haze around her face. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried about how quickly Coreen had agreed, but just the kettle started to boil, the shrill noise cutting through her thoughts and the conversation.

Coreen jumped at the sound, nerves still on edge even though all they'd done was talk and left to make the tea.

Vicky's eyes traveled over the room again trying to reconcile the reasonably normal surroundings with Coreen's extraordinary personality. It just didn't fit somehow…she glanced down at the books again and this time paying attention, knelt for a better look, not trusting her eyes with what she thought she saw.

"What are these?" she asked, eyes narrowing at Coreen as she walked into the room and hands holding up pages covered in scratched writing and inked figures with horns and tails and twisted bodies.

"I told you I couldn't hide from this forever Vicky, they're just books," Coreen defended.

"Oh yes, I see all the pretty pictures, but it's the words that worry me. What are they, spells? Like the one that gave me these things?" she said holding out her arms palm up to display the marks on her wrists. They ached and itched when she held the paper, the feeling making her skin crawl. "Like the one that brought Asteroth back from hell?"

"Yes," Coreen said, putting down the cups and looking up, for the first time standing her ground. Vicky didn't have Mike or Henry here to push her and make her see what needed to be done, Coreen would have to step up. "Like that. Like the spells on demon possession and evil. These have the answers that you asked me to find."

"They're evil Coreen, I can feel it."

"So are the questions we're asking, so are the reasons that we need to ask them."

Vicky sighed, not giving up the fight but she couldn't argue with Coreen. They were dealing with pure evil and sometimes you couldn't keep your hands clean even when doing good.

Vicky accepted a mug, her hands clutching at the warmth of it in a night that seemed suddenly more cold then it had a moment ago.

"So are you going to tell me what I should be looking for?" Coreen asked sipping from her own cup and sitting down at the table.

"It's Annie," Vicky said, coming and sitting down opposite her. "When I went to see her today, something was wrong about her… off," Vicky reached for words to try and explain.

"Like it was something else looking through her eyes," Coreen finished for her, and for what wasn't the first time nor the last Vicky wished that Coreen hadn't had to go through that, wasn't going to have to relive it again in order for them to stop Asteroth for good.

"Exactly," she said.

Coreen looked down, watching as bubbles formed on the edges of the glass and then broke away and burst to the surface. "Was it him?"

Vicky had spent too long talking to victims who used the same tone of voice as Coreen did now to pretend that she misunderstood. "No, it wasn't Asteroth," she said, giving the darkness name. "It was different…another demon, and I'm afraid that it's not the only one out there."

"What do you mean?" Coreen asked, the hot tea in her hands forgotten as a chill settled somewhere inside her.

"I think there are more demons against us then just Asteroth," Vicky said, voicing the fear that had bothered her all day. "I think they're finding…holes, gaps that he somehow makes for them with all the crimes he forces people to commit, holes that allow them into this world. And I think that they're coming for me."


	6. Chapter 6

3

Blood Ties; First Blood Chapter 6;

The donuts were mocking him. Their brightly coloured sprinkles and icing and the promise of a mid morning sugar high giving the false impression that the world was a carefree and bright place, full of sunshine and friendship where nothing bad ever happened. Mike looked away from the equally fake and brightly striped box, picking up a mug off the counter and examining its inside to see if it had been recently washed. The dark stain coating the bottom half made him rethink the wiseness of breakfast all together. Who really was it that had ever said it was the most important meal of the day anyways?

"Hey Mike," Kate said coming up behind him and removing the mug from his hand. One equally short look and she put it down again, mock scowling and grabbed a donut from the box.

"What do you say we go out for some decent jo?" she asked, smiling and carefully taking a lick off the iced surface.

Mike watched her and tried not to remember how Vicky always liked to tear donuts apart with her fingers, popping small pieces into her mouth before licking her fingertips clean…she'd been on his mind ever since last night when she'd called. And…. he felt guilty for lying and making excuses not to see her….but how could he do anything else? All that was going to happen if he allowed himself to see her was that she'd drag him right back into that supernatural world she lived in now and he'd lose everything…and she wouldn't let him be with her either way.

"Two meals in a row—won't people start to talk?" He jested, dragging his mind back to the woman before him rather then the one who haunted his thoughts.

"Let them," Kate answered, a serious note entering her voice while she looked up at him, sugary snack for the moment forgotten.

His eyes widen briefly, speechless at her suggestion. There had been moments last night when they were out that it had felt more like a date then just two colleagues having dinner after a long day…and he couldn't deny that it had felt good. Nice to be with someone who wanted to be with him too and wasn't afraid of life and uncertainty getting in the way. Good to be touched again, when Kates' hand had brushed his over coffee and her fingers trailed down his back over his shirt when she'd helped him off with his coat….

"That might be nice," he said finally, looking up to meet her eyes only to see that she was looking past him out the window into the common room.

"I think we'll have to rain check that," she said, nodding over his shoulder at something. "Looks like your avid gardener/ iron sculpture fanatic is back."

Mike turned, and had to blink twice before he really believed that Coreen was standing in the middle of the squad room, black hair and eyeliner and fishnet stockings and all.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" Kate asked on her way out. "You pick me up?"

"Sure," Mike answered, nodding but not really paying attention now. What in the world could Coreen want? She'd made it evidently clear the last time he'd been by their office to pick up some of stuff what she thought of him now…and he couldn't believe that Vicky had sent her; Vicky could be stubborn and argumentative and annoying but she wasn't a coward-she'd never send Coreen just because she didn't want to come and face him herself.

Coreen caught sight of him in the other room when Kate left, the movement apparently drawing her attention. Mike couldn't help but notice the changes in her as she walked over; small noises startled her, making her unconsciously jump and her hand was clutching something in the pocket of her jacket---probably mace or pepper spray, but then Mike remembered the stain that refused to come out of his favorite jacket and revised that guess to some charm or herb sachet for protection. She seemed more reserved too, before she'd always been the first to accept the otherworldly, finding it exciting that vampires and witches and voodoo were real…now there was a wariness in her. But then, now she knew that things that went bump in the dark didn't just live there, but were made from the dark as well.

"Coreen," he sighed as she came into the room, both confused and apprehensive at once. "What brings you this far downtown?"

"You know what," she said abruptly, crossing her arms over her chest, everything about her posture confrontational.

Mike leaned back against the counter, playing dumb. "I didn't get a phone message…"

"Since when does it take a phone call to tell you that something you already witnessed personally has happened?" she said, anger growing in her eyes but he refused to give way.

"Asteroth?" she reminded, voice unconsciously lowering with the word and she looked around as if to say the demon's name would make him magically appear.

"You were there, you know that he's the one responsible for what's going on in the city and you're just ignoring it. Sitting here and pretending that it never happened."

"I know what happened," Mike said, pushing off the counter and walking to stand right before her, not even noticing that she shrank back from him slightly. "I'm the one who found your heart in a locker at the bus station and then watched while it was put back into your body. I'm not likely to forget that."

"Then how can you just walk away?" Coreen asked, desperation and confusion in her voice.

"I gave Vicky a choice," he said quietly. "She chose and it wasn't me."

"It wasn't Henry either Mike! Don't you see that there's something bigger then the three of you now? She needs you and you're not there—because of what? Pride? How can you abandon her now when she's in the most danger ever?"

Mike pushed past her, turning away from her condemnations, from her ranting…turning away from the truth.

"We all make choices in this world Coreen that we have to live with. Vicky and I have made ours and nothing is going to change that. Please, don't come back here again."

-------------------------------------------------------

Henry was dreaming. Which in and of itself was odd enough, but he was dreaming of somewhere that he'd never been and people he didn't know, which pushed it from merely odd into the realm of completely unbelievable.

He'd walked around for awhile, lingering on the beach while the sun set and enjoying the feeling of its heat on his skin, the warmed sand under his feet. There were almost hordes of people here earlier, children yelling in delight at the waves, but as it got later only couples remained to glory in the ending of the day and now he was alone and night had fallen.

Or almost alone, even as the thought came to him he knew that there was someone else here. But he didn't turn to see who it was, already suspecting anyways, and trusting in the surrealism of the dream to guide his actions.

"Am I dreaming this or are you?" he asked quietly, the slight sea breeze seeming to take his words out across the sand almost as soon as they left his mouth.

"Why does it have to be one or the other?" she asked, the voice seeming to come from behind and inside him all at once, arousing a chill to spread over him like a tide.

"I thought that was the way it was with us, one or the other, never us or ours but you and me. Separate."

There was silence that greeted that and a sadness in the air and so he tried a different tactic.

"It's beautiful here," he said, gesturing to take in the white sand and brilliant blue water so clear and bright despite the darkness around them. "Almost unbelievable that anyone would choose to leave this behind."

"Sometimes choices aren't that clear…aren't that easy."

"Life is always the easy choice."

"I knew you would say that," she said, a whisper of sound on the night air. "But which life Henry? Which life will you chose? Mine or Vicky's?"

He spun around at that, catching smooth arms bare in the moonlight briefly before they melted out of his grasp and he held only air.

"What do you mean?" he had thought that they were past this, her threatening Vicky's life to force his hand.

Melancholy laughter answered him, in response more to his thought then what he had actually said aloud.

"You can't keep both of us alive. You'll have to choose which life to save. Powers beyond your comprehension align against her even now, and alone she will fall. Look to the living vampire, before you continue to chase after the already damned."

And the tranquility of the night broke around him, shattering and snapping him abruptly out of the dream and back to his hotel room, the sun just sinking below the horizon showing the old city in silhouette; dark shapes blocking out the last of the light.


	7. Chapter 7

Blood Ties First Blood; Chapter 7;

Vicky sipped at the lukewarm coffee, watching it swirl in the glass as she listened to Coreen slip into the office again. She'd snuck out sometime when Vicky had fallen asleep….because when Vicky had awoken to the lingering remembrance of strong fingers sliding over her knees she'd been alone in the office.

She debated about calling out, about asking Coreen where she had gone and why, but then reconsidered. If Coreen needed an escape from all of this then who was she to deny her that? And if she wanted to tell her where she'd been, she would. If she didn't…well, Vicky doubted that Coreen could foul up this whole situation any more then Vicky had managed to do on her own.

Almost a whole night's work and they hadn't found anything more conclusive about demon possession then they'd already known. It was amazing what information personal experience yielded. Too bad wikipedia didn't seem to have a 'everything you ever wanted to know about demons' page to fill in the gaps.

"Vicky?" Coreen called tentatively from the other room, probably believing her still asleep after so little the night before.

"Here," she answered, trying to decide whether to preserve the illusion of sleep or not and giving it up as too much effort. "Come up with anything?"

"Maybe," she came in, dragging over a chair and dropping what was possibly the thickest book that Vicky had ever seen on the desk between them. "I thought that Dr. Sagara might have something in her collection that could help."

"And you came up with.." she titled her head, squinting to read the title: "_Demonology_"?"

"Just listen," Coreen said, opening the cover and flipping past pages of illustrations. "Almost every culture in the world believes in demons of some kind or another. Fallen angels, evil spirits, devils...whatever name you want to call them by."

"Great," Vicky sighed, "that really narrows it down."

"But," Coreen interrupted triumphantly, "There's some overlap, some commonality in many cultures about certain aspects….like here." She pointed to one page that was covered with swirls of water and seaweed. "Almost every culture has some sort of demon linked to the sea or water…see, Nicor—known for causing drownings, tempests, and deaths of sailors. Or look," she flipped through the pages again, pausing on a page of figures writhing in flames; "A dramelech—his name is literally supposed to mean 'King of fire' and he's found in almost every society."

Vicky sat forwards, the possibility of what Coreen was saying dawning on her. "So then we might be able to find out which demons we're dealing with. Who is siding with Asteroth and a little on what they can do…"

"Exactly," Coreen said sitting back and folding her arms. "But…"

"What?"

"Well it's not exactly like a phone book or something. We can't just look them up and know everything about them….a lot of these demons might not even really exist, or if they do it might be related to something completely different then what the book says. It's myth and superstition over hundreds of years we're talking about here, aside from the few commonalities, they could have gotten anything mixed up or wrong…"

"The telephone game all over again," Vicky said, thinking of that game that children played whispering a sentence in someone's ear and then passing it on, over and over again, until it came out completely mangled on the other end.

Refusing to give in to her growing self-pity, Vicky forced an optimistic note into her voice, "This is good, I mean we can work with this and at least it will give us a clue as to what we might be up against."

"And we can be prepared," Coreen agreed. "I'll know whether to pack bug spray or Aztec gold!"

Vicky couldn't help but smile at that and Coreen was happy that she was able to bring a little lightness and perspective; sometimes when the battle seemed so impossible Vicky needed to be reminded of how much they'd faced and survived before. If they could do it then, they could do it now.

"Oh darn," Coreen caught sight of the clock, the hands ticking close to noon already. "I've got to work this afternoon at the café…" Coreen looked back and forth between the clock and the book on the table, knowing that she probably couldn't afford to pass up the shift but not wanting to leave when they had just gotten so close.

"Go on," Vicky said, reaching out and pulling the book across the desk towards her. "I'll see how much of this I can get through this afternoon and give you a call if I come up with something."

"Are you sure?" Coreen asked, eyeing Vicky and the book with open skepticism. Vicky was smart, but she wasn't exactly what anyone would call academically minded.

"I think I can handle it," Vicky replied, rich with sarcasm as she noticed Coreen hesitating.

"Okay, okay" Coreen held up her hands in defeat, grabbing her jacket and purse and heading out the door.

"Just switch on the lights on your way out, would you?" Vicky called. "It's kind of dark in here."

Coreen paused in the doorway, hand on the switch and looking up. "The light **is** on," she said, concern shading her voice as she looked at the brightly glowing yellow ceiling light.

Vicky looked up briefly, betraying herself as her hand quickly moved to the desk lamp at the corner and pulling the string: "I meant this one" she lied as the green tinged light spread over the desk.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Vicky leaned forwards, eyes squinting and trying to make the smudges on the page rearrange themselves into the familiar shapes of letters and words….but they refused to emerge from the gloom. She'd been at this for hours and her neck aches with the strain of bending over the pages. But no matter how hard she tried the pictures of people with dark holes for eyes swirled into oblivion of the mostly blackened page.

She sat back, defeated and pulled of her glasses in frustration, throwing them onto the desk only to hear them skim over pages and fall to the floor.

Her hands rubbed at her eyes, brain refusing to believe that no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she rested her eyes, or got new optometrist prescriptions for her glasses it wouldn't make a difference. Sometimes when she sat in the dark with her eyes closed she would still think that when she opened her eyes she'd be able to see again, that whatever irritant that had been obscuring her vision would be gone and bright colours and sharp edges would greet her. But it was all a delusion and she'd wake to muted grays and blurred images.

It had been getting worse lately. She wasn't going to admit it to anyone, weakness was something that you dealt with, not something you talked about. She hated it when Mike would make it sound like things could still be normal, that if she only made a few adjustments she could still live a perfectly normal life. How was she supposed to adjust to watching the darkness that was increasingly taking over her personal and professional life, steal her sight as well.

Her hands raked back through her hair, pulling it back and capturing its gold strands into an elastic band. She forced a deep breath, thinking back to those stress-relieving classes that a former Captain on the force had made everyone undergo under the guise of a team building exercise. At the time she'd consider them new-age nonsense, but the whole "three cleansing deep breaths in…three stress filled breaths out" seemed relaxing too…probably just the massive saturation of oxygen so suddenly.

She pushed herself up, walking carefully around the corner of the desk before dropping to her knees and picking up scattered pages, feeling for the defined shape of her glasses. She really needed to get a pair that didn't blend into the floorboards so well…Ah, there—half hidden by the desk leg. She slipped them back on, feeling the familiar weight settle on her nose even as she wished that she never had to feel it again.

Vicky stood up, leaning over the desk to drop the papers on the other side and caught sight of the page she had been trying to read, suddenly clearly defined it stood in stark relief off the page.

_Shalbriri…..demon of blindness…._

And everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

Blood Ties First Blood; Ch. 8

It started with the whispers. So low the sound just barely registered, sending a shiver over her skin but she couldn't make out the words. There was malice in the sound though, and the marks on her wrists itched and burned, although even they cast no light into the darkness.

It was more then just dark. Vicky had never realized how much ambient light there was around most of the time, because even with her poor vision at night she could still make out the grey and indistinct shapes of things around her. She held her hand up waiving it before her face but couldn't detect any hint of it. What was enveloping her now was the darkness of someone who had never known the light…the pure black of the blind.

She tried to tell herself that she wasn't afraid, that she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of making her tremble, but the longer she stood there, absolutely frozen in the dark not knowing if something was meters away or only inches from her was making her skin crawl.

"I know you're there," she said, proud that her voice came out strong and angry, not a hint of the quaver that she felt.

The whispers stopped as immediately and completely as they started; strangely making the darkness even more full and threatening without them.

"You don't know anything," the voice seemed to come from all around her, out of the heart of the darkness like sludge trailing over her it made her stifle a gag, before its next words sluiced over her like ice.

"You don't even know who you're dreaming about."

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Celluci!" the dragon roared across the squad room, making one of the less experienced rookies jump, a cloud of paper forming where they knocked reports to the ground.

Mike was beginning to get used to this by now though, and with a shared look of commiseration at Kate, he carefully extracted himself from behind his own fortress of paperwork. He refused to jump at her beck and call however and simply stood by the desk waiting to see if this was just another of those times she had only wanted to know that he was still in the room.

"My office. Now."

Well apparently not. He watched as others blanched at the thought of entering the dragons lair, but he couldn't even work up the energy for a good cold sweat. There wasn't much more that Crowley could do to him at this point. He'd been good as a boy scout and it had been made perfectly clear last time that so long as there was no further reason for complaint or concern, the Captains hands were tied.

He crossed the threshold, trying not to notice how hard she slammed the door behind him and leaned against the wall, arms crossing over his chest.

"This is your lucky day Celluci," the Captain said, sitting down at her desk looking so smug that it automatically put him on edge. "You've got a case."

Mike was so stunned he couldn't even think of a reply, only stood there gaping at her. It had been over 3 months with nothing but paper, paper and more paper and suddenly today, for apparently no reason he was getting back into the field. Some part of his brain nudged him, saying that there had to be a reason…some hidden motive, but he wasn't about to ask questions now.

She tossed him a thick manila folder, leaning back as if relishing victory already.

He glanced down at the first page, name and address printed in neat black pen. "Homicide at a hospital?" he asked skeptically, wondering if the catch was the he was back in the field but doing traffic enforcement or something instead of acting as a real detective.

"Girl apparently managed to get a hold of a plastic knife somehow, caused a whole shit load of death and destruction before going all bloody Mary herself. Mounthaven is a hospital for the criminally insane after all." Crowley eyed him from the other side of the desk; "Get going Celluci, and remember I'll be looking up on you."

------------------

Mike pulled his coat closer around him as he stepped out of the car and shut the door, pausing to look around. It was dank and cold, far colder then it should be for almost spring and a gust of wind caught at the edges of his clothes, pulling them tight and threatening to choke him with his scarf. There was something ominous in the wind, in the grey darkness of the day and the look of the sky; heavy with rain and mist that refused to fall. This was supposed to be spring, there should have been green grass and flower shoots peeking up from the flower beds, birdsong and sunshine… but the tilled earth that surrounded the front entrance that should be bright with colour, lay dark and fallow. The whole atmosphere was one of death, not life, and Mike tried to suppress a chill that shivered up his spine as he walked away from the car and climbed the front steps into the building.

A nurse on duty at the front desk looked up when he walked in, the wind catching at the door and swirling down the hallway as if it had only been waiting for the opportunity to enter. Mike struggled to push the door closed, looking back sheepishly at her when it slammed, the noise loudly echoing in the building.

"Hello," he offered, digging into his pocket for his badge, and holding it up the glass that boxed her in. His thumb couldn't help but caress the smooth edges while he tucked it back away again. "I'm here about the homicide."

"Yes, I guessed that was probably it," she barely looked up, sticking out one hand pointing to a row of chairs that were bolted to the far wall. "I'll call the doctor to take you back."

Mike sat down, hands clasped between his knees, waiting. He still thought that something was fishy about this whole situation; why did the Captain suddenly decide that he could go back into the field? Why this case?

He stood up, walking over to the nurses desk again and rapping lightly on the glass.

"The doctor will be here in just a minute or two," she said, dismissing him.

"Yes, thank you. I was wondering if you could get me copy of the visitor's log?" he asked. "I'll need to speak with anyone who might have visited either of the victims in the past few days."

"Of course, I'll have it ready for you before you go."

"Thank you," he smiled, and this time she looked up, something lightening in her eyes and she smiled back.

"Detective Celluci?" the voice behind him made him turn to see an older woman in a white coat walking towards him.

"I'm Doctor Johnston, I've been Anne's primary care physician here for the last few months," she reached out and shook his hand, her grip firm and sure. "I'm sorry, but my colleague who has been overseeing the other party had to leave unexpectedly today and wont' be able to join us."

"That's alright," Mike said, watching as she pulled a swipe card from her pocket and opened the first door, ushering him through before pulling it firmly closed behind them. "I'll probably have to be back again to finish off the paperwork anyways."

She smiled at him in understanding, "There's always too much paperwork," she agreed.

Another locked door opened and closed and they entered a dead end hallway that opened up to a large open room at the far end.

He nodded to a security guard at the nurses station inside the door, before walking past.

"This is where it happened?"

"Yes," Doctor Johnston said, "It was just after breakfast, I don't know how she got the knife in here- they're not even supposed to have sharp utensils with meals on this ward."

"And the scene has been kept secure since then?"

"Yes," she answered, unconsciously slowing down as they neared the end of the hall. "There's been security here ever since and we moved the patients out to another ward immediately afterwards. Some are in the infirmary and a few of the nurses got cut pretty badly."

"I'll need to get their statements as well," Mike said. "When they're feeling up to it."

"Of course," she said, but hesitated, pausing a few doors from the end. Mike looked back, wondering what would make a doctor at a hospital for the mentally insane look as worried and concerned as she now did. Her hair was pulled up, the grey looking like silver in the light, but Mike noted the loose strands escaping on the left side, from where she had ran her hand through it over and over again in stress, and the wrinkles across her forehead and at the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked at him. They called those laugh lines, he remembered, but she didn't look much like she wanted to laugh right now.

"What is it?" he reached out and touched her arm, briefly in reassurance.

She shook her head, "I don't know what sort of cases you usually deal with…I'm sure homicide detectives have seen almost anything…hell," she looked away, "I thought that I'd seen almost everything, but this…this is beyond anything that I've known…how that girl could do all of this.." she trailed off then looked up to meet his eyes. "There's something about you…why do I get the feeling like what I'm saying isn't surprising you?"

"I've seen a lot myself," Mike said, thinking of dark endless nights and bus stations. "like you said, homicide detectives acquire a thick skin."

The doctor nodded, satisfied but not entirely convinced and waved her arm for him to continue on without her. Mike moved on without looking back, but he felt his steps getting slower as he approached the common area, something like lead falling deeper and deeper into his stomach with each step. He could still feel her eyes on his back though and so he didn't stop, didn't turn or look back as he took the final step into the room and had to brace his legs, locking his knees to keep from reeling in shock.

Because the floor was red with that particular shade that was unique to blood, and there were two nearly headless bodies on the ground, a third figure completely red lay slumped against one wall. But that wasn't what made him feel like he was going to be sick…what made him finally realize why the Captain had sent him on this particular case and even while the nausea threatened to choke him and he swallowed bile bitter in his throat, he had to acknowledge the dragon's cunning. Because the walls were covered in drawings, seals and symbols, drawn in blood like some child's finger paintings gone wrong. Even looking at them made him feel as if the same evil had crawled over him as when he'd seen Vicky last, standing with it over Coreen's cold body. This case had her written all over it—and the Captain knew it.


	9. Chapter 9

2

Blood Ties First Blood Ch. 9;

Mike flipped closed the notepad, setting the pen back into his inside jacket pocket and looking around for the first time in over an hour. After interviewing the doctor, security and nurses involved he had little better understanding of what happened here then he did when he first walked in. At least if he ignored that feeling in his gut that said that this case was intrinsically linked to Vicky and what he'd witnessed walking into this world almost four months ago.

No one had any idea how the girl got the knife, how she was able to kill two adults, wounding four of the staff before killing herself. No one knew what the symbols were, or why she had drawn them with the last of her strength on the walls. Basically everyone was chalking this whole mess up to one crazy little girl whose head no could even hope to understand.

But the thing was, he could. He knew that there was more here then anyone—almost anyone, was willing to see. Sometimes it took the blind to see what was the hardest to accept.

But he couldn't involve her in this…he was out of that world now. It had nothing to do with him, and to be drawn back into it now—it would cost him everything.

Captain Crowley was watching him, had specifically chosen him for this case knowing that it would temp him to go back to Vicky, to get her help with this or bring her into this…if he did his career, his relationships, the new life he was slowly trying to rebuild from the ashes of hell would all end. He couldn't choose that path again.

He turned away from the demonic symbols on the wall, from the bloodied bodies on the floor and ducked under the yellow police tape that now ringed off this end of the corridor. There was some commotion going on at the far end of the hall, people with gurneys and the security guard raising his voice. He recognized the delicate figure of Dr. Modhaven standing, her arms crossed in frustration.

"Look, you're not on the list and you don't have identification so you're not getting in there," the officer by the first set of doors' voice was loud enough to hear even half way down the hall now. Mike sighed and sprinted down toward them.

"Hey! Lay off, she's with me," Mike said, coming up behind Dr. Modhaven and guiding her past the police tape. "Doc, what are you doing out in the field? I thought your thing was more sub-basement then outdoors."

"Usually it is, but we're so short handed, I've had to take a few runs. I don't like leaving them alone back at the office, but there's really no help for it."

"Sure," Mike said. He'd never really understood her particular views about the dead, but then anyone who chose to spend their nights with no one but dead bodies to talk to had to develop some peculiarities.

Doctor Modhaven moved past him and into the other room, and while Mike didn't follow her he could tell the exact moment when she saw the scene by the way her back stiffened. She stood there a moment before, moving forwards and opening one of the dark body bags beside the closest figure on the ground.

Mike turned to leave, but was stopped by her voice; "I keep seeing more and more cases like this lately. Isn't that strange detective Celluci?" He turned back to see her kneeing on the ground, one her hands positioning the victim's limbs over their body like some ancient funeral ritual.

"Just your average run of the mill crazy," he answered, his jaw setting in a stern line but he couldn't meet her eyes. "What's so strange about that?"

"Oh, everything's strange about this detective. Sometimes I wonder if there's anyone out there who can see what's really going on, who could make a difference…." She trailed off shaking her head and looking away. "Of course, no can do anything alone."

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Vicky's breath caught in her throat and she stumbled backwards, leg bumping into the chair and falling backward into it, even though she couldn't see even the barest outline of what was holding her up.

"What do you mean?"

Laughter swirled out of the darkness, worse then the whispers and silence before and she actually found herself wishing for the voice to come back.

"You think that you're dreaming about that vampire, that it's his hands, his lips, his tongue on your skin when you close your eyes. Human's are such fools; blind in everything they do they can't even see what's right in front of them, clear as day."

"Is that what this is about? You've got a funny way of trying to make me see things clearly by making me go blind," Vicky was angry now, and her hands gripped the arms of the chair, feeling the wood dig into her hands and the familiar solidity of it reassuring in the complete black. This was real and if it was real then she could fight it.

"He offered you everything, your sight, a place at his side, to be safe and revered among all humanity and you spit on his gift. Well what he can give you, he can also take away and it's open season on you now—Asteroth will have you Vicky. You've accepted him every time in your dreams at night….all you have to do for this to end is call out to him."

Vicky felt physically sick thinking of all those nights when she'd woken up, breathless and heart racing with the lingering feel of hands on her body, fingers pulling the silk sheets from off her skin…to know that it had been Asteroth all this time…she gagged, trying to stifle it in the dark, but knowing from its laughter that it heard.

"I've lived with blindness hovering over me for years now, you're not doing anything that won't happen anyways—you can't scare me with this."

"And what if I'm not alone?" the voice of darkness personified felled silent just as Vicky felt her marks begin to burn, the pain so real and sharp she couldn't believe that there weren't bright flames licking at her hands. It traveled to engulf her arms, she could feel the skin crisping, the pain of nerves dying, and her scream cut over its laughter in the dark.


	10. Chapter 10

Blood Ties First Blood; Ch. 10;

"All you have to do is call out him Vicky, and this all can end…the pain, the darkness, it will all be over."

Vicky bit her lip, barely feeling the pain of it or the hot blood that spilt down her chin in comparison with the burning agony that was slowly engulfing her whole. She wouldn't do it…to give in to him, it would be to abandon everything she'd ever loved, believed in.

"They've already abandoned you, what are you holding onto them for?" The voice was insidious coming out of the dark, voicing the fears that kept her up at night. "They've all left you Vicky, all but him—Asteroth can give you things you've never even dreamed of; power, strength…your sight. He'll never leave you, and all you have to do is call for him and it can all be yours, forever."

Vicky sobbed as the words touched some truth deep inside her, causing more pain then the burning fire ever could. It was right, they all left sooner or later….Henry was gone, not even saying goodbye…and Mike, he wouldn't even return her phone calls…soon Coreen would find someone else, another job that wasn't so insane and she'd be gone too…Vicky pushed them all away because of this, because of what Asteroth had done to her, marked her…

"Chosen you," the voice whispered. "Of all others, he chose you."

She could never get away, he would always be haunting her and she was so tired of fighting…why keep trying when everyone she was cared about protecting was gone?

"Just say his name Vicky, call him and it can all be over…"

She opened her mouth, lips forming the syllables but choked on blood that filled her mouth, coughing and spluttering: "Ast.."

"Vicky!"

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Henry flung open the door, racing into the room, feeling the taint of evil soak into his skin as he crossed the threshold. He couldn't be too late…shaken with the threat of Vicky's life hanging over him, he'd resorted to everything from bribery to threats to dark magic and persuasion to get here, but every second that ticked by made the weight that seemed to crush his chest whenever he thought of Vicky grow.

He couldn't think of a world without Vicky…it would be like a world with no light, a night without stars…

Henry could hear a heartbeat from the other room, but it was far too fast and he could taste the tang of fear and pain in the air… He ran, pushing himself and crossing the distance in a blur, in his haste pulling to door off the hinges.

"Vicky!" he called.

But Vicky just sat in the chair, papers scattered around her, hands gripping the wooden arms so tight that blood ran down the sides from where splinters had embedded themselves underneath her fingernails.

"Henry?" her voice emerged choked and high and Henry's heart ached with at the sound. She turned towards him and he could see the blood trailed down her face, her lips red and bitten.

He ran to her, kneeling in front of the chair, but she didn't seem to see him, one hand letting go and reaching out, shaking as if afraid of what she might touch. He grabbed it, bring it to his lip and kissing her palm before guiding it to his face, feeling the small trembles that ran through her skin and the fast beat of her pulse in her wrist as it settled along his neck. He reached up, hands cupping her face and pulling it down towards him, feeling the moisture of tears spill over his fingers.

"Henry…is that really you?" her voice was so broken and vulnerable it wrapped around his heart, making him want to pull her into his arms and keep her safe from all the darkness in the world.

"What's wrong?" but as he met her eyes he could see for himself, they were completely dark, like holes of pure black, swirling ebony.

"It's the demon…I can't see," her hand pointed in the general direction of the desk, and Henry saw a large tomb open on it, the pages dark with harsh illustrations of people with nothing but black holes gaping where their eyes should be.

"Hold on," Henry said, pulling away but Vicky frantically reached out for him, hands clutching at his coat as if it was the only real thing in the world.

"Don't go!" she sounded near to desperation and he hated to deny her anything, but…

"I'll be right back, I promise."

Vicky tried to breathe through the pain, in and out but the burning was somehow manageable now. Henry was here…all she had to do was hang on, one moment to the next and he'd be back.

"He's left you once—he'll do it again. How many women has he used? You can't rely on him…" the voice said, sounding right behind her ear and she dodged to the left.

"No," Vicky said, tone sure with confidence. "Henry has always been there for me, we share everything."

"Vicky! Just hold on, I'm here," Henry hurried back to her side when he heard her speaking, but there was still no one else in the room that he could see, only the sense of evil that refused to leave.

"Hurry," Vicky bit out through clenched teeth as another wave of fire overtook her, burning up and into her chest, threatening to stop her breathing.

Henry reached into the bag he'd brought, the costly hour spent running around old Venice paying off; he pulled out five clear quartz crystals each the size of his fist, and a bottle of sea salt—arranging the crystals around Vicky in the chair in a pentagram and connecting each stone with lines of salt. He crossed the desk, grabbing the book and letting his eyes unfocus as he stared at the page, the familiar trick making the lettering stand out from the twisted boarder illustrations. The latin rolled off his tongue, smooth and sure despite the centuries since he'd last spoke it, the final word making the crystals shine with light and the salt glowing the white so pure that he had to turn away as it pierced into his eyes. But it only grew and grew, shining so brightly that he brought his hand up covering his eyes and drawing his coat over his head for fear it would burn like sunlight.

Vicky screamed when the light reached unbearable proportions, the fire finally having substance in her eyes before it winked out, leaving the room dark but visible—the familiar shapes of her furniture and design of the wallpaper greeting her. Henry stood in the far corner, his dark coat smoking but intact as he turned to look at her, eyes squinting after the brightness.

He just stood there, staring at her—wanting to commit every line and angle of her face to memory, the real thing so much more vibrant then the faded photograph image that his mind was able to recall. She was gold and sunshine, warmth and life…

"I thought I was too late…that I'd lost you."

"I already lost you once, you left."

The pain of that registered in his eyes, but he didn't look away or try to hide it from her.

She looked around, seeing the crystals encircling her for the first time.

"You came back for me, did magic for me…" she looked up at him again, a question in her eyes and the beginnings of hope.

"I would do anything for you."


	11. Chapter 11

Blood Ties First Blood Ch; 11;

Vicky felt Henry's arms close around her, his lips finding her and claiming her, stealing whatever breath she might have used to protest before she could speak. This time, unlike the dream there were no teasing brushes, no gentle caresses, his hands firm and insistent as he pulled her close, tongue streaking over the seam of their lips demanding entry.

The taste of her filled his mouth, the intoxicating heady flavour of her blood combined with the fear and urgency that had driven him for the past hours pushing him nearly beyond reason and control. But as his fingers pulled the blouse loose from where it was tucked into her pants and he felt the silky warmth of her skin he forced himself to slow down…he pulled away slightly, releasing her lips and waiting until she looked up at him, holding her gaze and refusing to let go while his fingers worked open the bottom button, then the next and the next.

He watched her pupils widen as his hands slid over the smooth firmness of her stomach, smiled at the way she bit slightly at her bottom lip, causing the wound to reopen and blood to stain her lips red again. He couldn't resist such an invitation and caught her lips again, the taste of her blood making his own pump faster and pool hot and heavy in his groin.

He pulled her close, hands moving down her body to grasp her butt, pulling her up against him while he maneuvered them over so he could sit her on the edge of the desk.

Vicky leaned back over the desk, hands anchored on Henry's shoulders, glad to be sitting down because she wasn't sure how much longer she could have stood up…her hands moved up to burry themselves in her hair, feeling the silky strands tangle and weave through her fingers. His head followed the lead of her hands back to her mouth again, this time her own tongue initiating the contact and drawing him in until he pulled back breathless.

His lips skimmed over her jaw, moving to trail and lick and nip down her neck and over her collarbone, hands deftly encircling up behind her to flick open the catch of her bra. She laughed then, wondering when he'd first become accustomed to modern clothing and catches and made a note to ask him one of these days…there was so much about his history, about history in general that she wanted to know, but then all thought were driven from her mind as she felt the sensation of his tongue and teeth brush over her nipple drawing a moan from her lips.

Henry smirked again as he elected another moan, the sound coupled with her laughter only moments before seeming to burn right through him, igniting a fire in his blood that made him desperate. The smell of her blood and arousal at his touch reaching him and only serving to entice him on.

His hands moved against her sides, leaning her back even more as his tongue swirled over her belly button and he felt the trembling weakness growing in her stomach, muscles contracting at the touch. His fingers easily undid the closing of her jeans, roughly pulling the denim down her legs, before firmly stroking back up their long golden length and drawing them to either side of his hips.

Vicky sat up, scooting forward on the desk and barely hearing the shuffling noise as papers scattered to the floor and she moved to wrap her legs tighter around him pulling him close and feeling the bulge in his pants, only a few layers of clothing separating them. Her hands closed over the well defined and bare skin of his shoulders and she spared a thought to wonder when he'd removed his shirt before the heat burned into her off his skin and she drew him back to her, purposively pulling at her bloody lip again knowing the taste would drive him crazy like nothing else.

She felt his fingers teasing over the lace at the edges of her panties, pressing it into her skin so that the roughness scratched every so slightly at heightened nerve endings.

"Henry…" she managed to breath against his lips, wanting to make it demanding but it came out more like a plea, waves of fire so excruciatingly enjoyable now where they had been painful before nearly drowning her at even that slight touch.

She felt his lips smile against hers before he drew back, fingers easily shredding the lace before moving across her leg to tease at the edges of her skin the wetness moistening his fingers even now and Vicky gasped, unable to do more then press her legs against his hips in assent…in desperation.

His fingers slipped inside her, feeling the heat and wetness over come him and imagined that it was more then his fingers that moved in and out of her making her lean back in ecstasy hands quivering on his shoulders as he stepped out of his pants, moving so that his skin could rub against hers, building the heat and friction between them.

She pulled at him as his fingers left her, managing to draw herself up to cling to his shoulders as he pulled her forwards balancing her on the edge of the desk, she could feel the wooden edge hard against her butt as he pulled her close but her mind was more focused on the other hard length she felt, free and against her skin pressing into her leg. She leaned forward, her teeth nipping at his neck and tongue running over his chest as he slid closer, inching into her and gasping at the sensation…it had been forever, and never like this…

She stayed with him while he moved, fingernails drawing blood at one point when the stars seemed so bright they might explode, the smell of his blood mingling with hers sending them over the edge and into pure light.

* * *

_A/N: So I know it's been awhile, and I'm really really sorry, but I hope this makes up for it in some small way. More to come—and with less of a wait this time-- I promise!_


	12. Chapter 12

Blood Ties; First Blood; Chapter 12;

Mike stepped out of the hospital and into the cold drizzle misting the night air. He pulled his coat closer around him, staring into the darkness with concern and frustration…it really shouldn't be this cold, it was almost spring. But if it was an unnatural start to the season it at least had the benefit of shocking him awake and driving the pictures of blood and bodies of his mind. Mike turned to go, pulling his keys out of his pocket and squinting through the rain to see his car still parked at the other end of the lot.

"Detective!" he stopped and turned around at the sound of the voice and saw a nurse in a white uniform running towards him, papers clutched close to her chest to keep them dry.

"Yes?" Mike took a deep breath and tried to remove the 'this-has-been-too-long-a-day-already' look from his face, steeling himself to face yet another person's retelling of the triple homicide inside.

"The day nurse on duty said that you'd requested this?" she half asked, while handing him the papers, trying ineffectually to shield both them and her strawberry blonde hair from the drizzle.

"The visitor logs?" she reminded him gently when he continued to stare at her for a moment too long.

"Oh, thanks," he answered, genuinely meaning it. He'd almost walked out without them, had completely forgotten it in fact…was this was a few months on a desk did to a guy? he thought…maybe Vicky had been right about not wanting to end up stuck behind a desk watching rookies and second rate detectives fumble their way through homicide cases…

"It's been a long day," he said quickly, not finishing the thought and not completely sure if he was making excuses to her or to himself.

"and night," she said, looking at him in sympathy and gesturing up to the dark sky. She patted his arm lightly in commiseration before turning to run back inside. She couldn't be more then 23, Mike thought watching her go….he was probably old enough to be her father…god it made him feel about a hundred years old. And days like today didn't help.

A particularly large drop of rain fell on his head, curling its way through his hair to drip down his collar and making him shiver, jumping slightly as it traveled. He shook himself out of his reverie, and holding the remembered logs closely jogged the rest of the distance to the car.

He slide in behind the drivers seat, starting the engine and watching while the windows slowly began to fog as the engine warmed up enough to produce heat through the vents. Brushing his hand back through his hair and shaking off his coat he dislodged droplets of water that beaded on the faux leather interior of the seats, splashing over the manila folder the nurse had given him.

"Damn," Mike swore, quickly reaching out and brushing off the water before it could soak in and make the ink run on the pages inside.

"well…I suppose I might as well get this over with," he muttered under his breath. He wanted this case behind him. There was something about it that bothered him, something that even after years on the beat, then in homicide, and even more recently filing the reports of all the crazy shit going on in town lately…something about this case just got under his skin. Literally, it felt like something crawling…squirming around just where he couldn't see it.

He flipped open the folder, eyes skimming the heading information: patents name, doctor, columns for date, time and signature…

There weren't many. It didn't take him long to notice it, and only moments to make the connections between why after so long he was finally put back on a case. Back on this particular case.

Cause right there, about half way down the page it was:

Visitor's name: Vicky Nelson. And yesterday's date.

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Coreen said goodbye to the other waitress at the corner, watching as Sally's completely unremarkable jeans and crème sweater clad form walked around the corner to where she'd catch the streetcar off Dundas. Not that long ago Coreen used to walk home alone after closing up completely unafraid of the dark, if asked, she might even had said that the possibilities of what could be out there were so invigorating and exciting she didn't' have any room left to be afraid.. but not now. Now she walked with Sally from the subway as far as she could before they had to part ways. It was only another 3 blocks to her apartment but standing under the yellow streetlit corner and looking out into the night through the silver rain, it seemed like a really far ways right now.

"Come on chicken, you can do this…" she whispered quietly to herself, pulling her red and black fake velvet scarf closer and setting out quickly.

Just think about something else…anything else, she thought leaving behind the safety of the streetlight. But crème coloured pages filled her mind, pictures of dark and twisted forms inked onto their surface, betraying her mind's instructions to think of rainbows and puppy-dogs.

Coreen shook her head, as if it would be that easy to dislodge the images and started to walk faster, nearly jogging unconsciously in her desire to get home and lock the doors and be safe again. If anywhere in the world could ever be considered safe while Asteroth was in it.

She sighed in relief when her building finally came into view. Not anything to be incredibly impressed with usually, the slightly run down student building in the Annex looked heavenly right now with its security lock door and brightly lit foyer. Coreen fumbled with the keys, finding the right one and getting inside but not really calming down and taking a deep breath until she was in the elevator, its dark doors closing firmly behind her as she leaned back against the wall.

God what was wrong with her? She couldn't even step foot outside these days without being terrified of nearly every noise and person…it was only the knowledge that Vicky needed her that kept her walking out the door every day. Without Coreen, Vicky would be all alone….she'd chosen to risk the world to save Coreen's life…how could she walk away after that?

Coreen stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway, barely noticing or caring about the flaking paint or stained carpet. It was familiar and comforting, just like the way her doorknob stuck slightly and you had to wiggle it to the left to get it to open.

She dropped her bag and coat onto a chair by the door—after firmly clicking the dead bolts on the door closed behind her—and unwound her scarf adding it to the top of the pile.

But home was no refuge, as she turned around to find the pages and books open and scattered across the table, bed and floor; their surfaces covered with the drawings and illustrations of demons that had haunted her mind along the dark walk home. She shivered as if they were really watching her, staring and just waiting for their chance…just waiting for their chance to take her…

She crossed the room in three steps, shoving at the pages and sending them scattering in her anger. She tore at the books and scraps of paper flew creating a mini whirl wind in the room like a snow globe having been shaken before resettling slowly around where she'd collapsed to the floor.

Coreen sobbed, covering her eyes with one hand and feeling the tears and dark makeup leave streaks over her palm. Her other hand reached out and slowly traced over what looked like an old scar across her chest, the thicker skin pulled and puckered in a line over her heart. She'd never told Vicky, never told anyone, but she remembered how he'd made her stand in the bathroom of the bus station before the mirror, eyes smiling and looking at that part deep insider her body where she was screaming and pleading, held captive while he put the blade to her skin and sliced out her heart….she remembered the look of joy on her own features at the pain and terror it caused.

Coreen straightened up, wiping at her eyes that were suddenly dry at the memory. She wouldn't be a victim. She wouldn't let him ruin the life that Vicky had bought for her. She'd find a way to stop the son of a bitch and send him back to hell.

And so she reached for the pages strewn all over the floor around her, parts of them had been ripped and shredded in her anger and she set these aside to tape back together later. But as she pulled one page towards her, the picture on it made her pause…it was small, which was unusual, mostly there had been large swirling darkness on every page, as if the demons in their had tried to make themselves as large as possible even in the illustrations. This page was mostly covered in text, carefully printed in neat lines, with small pictures illustrating the steps like in a cook book.

What made her hand tremble so that the paper shook and she unconsciously held her breath was that it looked like the very last picture showed a demon being pulled back into a raging darkness…pulled through a circle and into hell.

* * *

A/N: hi all, sorry again that it's been so long. What can I say—politics of RL have been making me so depressed that it's hard to find the will to write. Maybe some reviews would aide in lifting my spirits and bringing a creative muse back my way? Yes? Lol. Hope you enjoyed and as always, happy reading! ~Xan


	13. Chapter 13

Blood Ties First Blood; Chapter 13;

Vicky gently smoothed the stray curls that fell into Henry's eyes, brushing them off his forehead and feeling their silky smoothness between her fingers while he slept. She could see the first light of day creeping across the floor in the other room from where she must have left the blinds open…she'd have to watch herself with that one from now on, she thought smiling.

He'd come back for her…come more then once if she'd counted correctly. Her face flushed with the thought—her arms holding tight to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist as she gave him the ride of his long long life while he'd rushed them back home, the wind whipping at her hair and creating a wonderful contrast between their hot skin and its chill.

Vicky pulled a robe around herself, quietly slipping out of bed and padding into the living room in her bare feet. She glanced around on the table tops for the remote that worked the window blinds—where had she put that damn thing again?—spending a good part of an hour searching before she came across it in a box with some of Henry's things.

She paused, kneeling down and gently touching the carefully sealed plastic envelopes with his artwork, the boxes with his pens and ink and old books, their covers breaking and binding falling loose from long use and love. She remembered how angry she'd been when packing his things up, never wanting to see them again or have the slightest reminder of him in her life. Now she could see now how stupid that had been, how it was just a reaction to losing him and denying herself what she'd wanted for so long.

Cause she did want him. More then anything she wanted to spend a lifetime…maybe more then a lifetime, having days like today. A life filled with love and passion and heat; everything that had been missing from her life since he'd left. She wanted Henry…

The question was what did Henry want?

He'd come back to save her yes, they'd spend an amazing night together—finally!—but did that change anything? Was he going to stay in Toronto this time and help her fight Asteroth? Or was he going to leave again? Say that it was an impossible battle and the only way to survive was to stay out of the demons reach?

Vicky's hands stilled on the faded green cover of one of the books…she looked at the floor around her and realized that she'd unconsciously begun unpacking the box, wanting his things out in the apartment and intermingled with hers. Wanting this to be their home now—together.

The thought of him leaving again paralyzed her. But the thought of losing him again was even worse.

What would she do if he left again? And what would she say this time if he asked her to come with him for a second time?

She jumped as a loud knocking at the door startled her out her reverie, making her drop the book with a thump she saw the cover tear loose to sit on an angle against the thick pages and the floor. She glanced worriedly back over her shoulder to the bedroom before remembering that Henry was dead to the world for the day—and would stay that way until the sunset nearly 8 hours from now.

Vicky looked around, seeing her coat on the chair and knowing that there would be a knife in the pocket. Before she'd just carried a baton, but the streets were a different kind of dangerous now. Pulling her robe closer and tying it firmly closed with a knot she made her way to the door.

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"Come on Vicky, open up!" Mike yelled, swearing under his breath as he pounded on the door again, the delay making him even more frustrated.

He'd gone straight from the psychiatric hospital to the station, stopping at the morgue on his way in but Doctor Modhaven hadn't had time to find anything on any of the bodies yet so that had been a waste of time. The rest of the night he'd spent learning the grizzly tale of why one Ann Lywellin had ended up in a mental ward to begin with. It wasn't pretty. In fact, in all his years on the force it might possibly be the most disturbing thing that he'd ever read. The way the cop's statements described the scene it was so vivid…and evil. But what made him just as angry as he was unsettled was that the whole story, down to every last little detail, had Vicky's name written all over it. Literally. Only the most addled village idiot could miss the demon's hand all over this one, he didn't' even look like he was trying to hide it! But if that wasn't obvious enough—and for the Captain it would have to be blatantly clear—Vicky was basically the only visitor that the girl ever had.

He'd spent the last few hours of the night—or early hours of the morning depending on how one liked to look at these things, and from long experience he preferred night, mostly because it meant he lost less sleep if you kept track that way—trying to come up with reasons why he wouldn't have to speak to the people on the visitor's log, and when that was unsuccessful, reasons how he could procrastinate as long as possible. Lets just say that all the coffee cups in the break room were spotless this morning.

Mike banged his fist against the door for the third time, rattling at the handle and wishing that he hadn't thrown out his copy of her keys….maybe he could pick the lock? It wasn't very 'law and order' of him, but this was getting ridiculous!

He raised his hand to knock again when the door slowly cracked open an inch.

"Vic, what the hell is going on?" he asked, pushing at the door to get inside only to find that he came up short when it banged against a chain lock.

"What the?"

"No…Vic here," a small Asian women said from inside. "I call police, you leave."

Mike was so taken aback, he had to look at the apartment number to double check that this was in fact Vicky's apartment and he hadn't knocked on the wrong door. But despite the familiar faded wall paper, and the same bright brass numbers on the door, this clearly wasn't Vicky's place now.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, mam," he offered, praying that she understood him he reached into his front pocket and pulled out his badge hoping that it might smooth over some of her desire to call the police. It was only 5:30 in the morning, she was still in a flannel nightgown and here was some loud crazy man practically beating down her door…Mike couldn't be more ashamed of himself if his mother had been standing right behind him.

"I'm looking for Vicky Nelson?"

"No…Vickee Neeelson," the woman said, stumbling over the name before shutting the door firmly in his face.

Mike stepped away from the now unfamiliar door and leaned against the wall. He knew that things had been off between him and Vicky, that there'd been tension after Asteroth came back and he'd been dealing with all the heat and fire from the Captain about his behaviour and accountability…but he never thought that she'd move without telling him. Would just pack up and leave and not even let him know…

But then he remembered a phone call a few nights ago, working late at the office and feeling the Crowley's eyes basically burning holes into the back of his head as he told Vicky he couldn't meet her for dinner. And the time before that when he'd blown off coffee, and then before that turning down late night Chinese on his doorstep…He knew that he couldn't still be a cop and have Vicky in his life, and if that meant shutting her out of his life well, everyone had to make choices—even hard ones that broke your heart to think about.

What had never occurred to him was that maybe she might shut him out of hers too.

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Vicky sighed in relief, slipping the knife easily into the pocket of her robe as Coreen pushed her way into the room, pacing and almost jumping in her excitement.

"Do we need to have the 'this is what drugs do to your brain' talk?" Vicky asked, shutting and locking the door behind her. "Cause I think I'm out of eggs."

"Sorry," Coreen said, trying to keep herself still and imagining that her feet were glued to the floor so she wouldn't start dancing. "I've been up working on this all night Vicky, and I knew you'd be up and want to know, and it's just so amazing, I don't know why I didn't see it sooner, I mean it was right in front of me-literally staring me in the face!" she giggled but sobered quickly at Vicky's look.

"What is it? What's this end of the world break through you've found?" Vicky said, smiling slightly to take the sting out of the sarcasm.

"I know how we're going to save the world," Coreen said, moving forward to grip Vicky's arms and squeeze them tight.

"I know how we're going to send Asteroth back to hell."

* * *

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to Wispr—thanks for the poem review, it made my day!


	14. Chapter 14

4

Blood Ties: First Blood; Ch. 14;

Vicky stood utterly still, her breath held and heart nearly stopped beating as the meaning of Coreen's words sank in…they could defeat Asteroth, send him back to hell and keep everyone in the world safe…She felt something desperate within her break, turning away and taking a deep breath so that Coreen wouldn't see the tears that threatened to fall. So long she'd been living with the fact that all the evil that he did in the world was her fault, that she was the one that was really to blame. The guilt of that choice had been what was keeping her going, and as much as she tried to make herself believe that she could fix it, that it could all be over one day, some part of her deep down knew that Henry was right and they couldn't stop him. But then Coreen showed up on her doorstep, and she seemed so sure, so confident…

"How?" Vicky asked, turning around and burying her hope beneath a trusted layer of skepticism and reality. "How are we supposed to do that?"

"Welll…" Coreen stalled, her excitement fading slightly. "This might be the part that you don't like…" she cautioned.

"Coreen, how?"

"Magic." Coreen bit her lip and cringed away slightly, unsure of how Vicky would react. After everything that they'd been through in the past few months, Coreen hoped that Vicky would jump on board with any possibility like she had, but she knew that magic was something Vicky still wasn't happy with using. And the hard part was that Coreen couldn't really blame her, after all it had been magic that had marked her skin with demon brands, magic that had brought Asteroth into the world to begin with.

"…but it's only fitting that magic should be what can send him back," Coreen said quietly, finishing her thought out loud.

"What?" Vicky said.

"Just that it fits," Coreen said, voice rising again as she tried to convince Vicky that this might actually be the **only** thing that could work. "Magic is what brought him through in the first place right?" she pulled Vicky's hands into hers, and turned them so that the inside of her wrists faced up, the dark brands clearly visible again her pale skin. "So maybe magic is what's meant to send him back."

"Even if that's so," Vicky said quietly, pulling her hands away and rubbing at the tattoo's like they ached or burned still. "We still don't know what magic or what the cost might be."

"I found a spell," Coreen said, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and laying it on the table, putting it out there quickly trying to get it over with like pulling off a bandage.

"A spell to send a demon back to hell? What's it called 'banishment for beginners'?" Vicky asked sarcastically.

"Well sort of…"

"And where exactly did you find this spell?"

"Well…."

"Let me guess I'm going to like this part even less then I liked the part about magic right?"

"Maybe…"

"Lets get it over with then," Vicky sighed, refusing to allow any more stalling.

"Remember a couple of months ago?" Coreen asked, carefully inching away and around the end of the couch. "After Henry left trying to find Ja—"

"What about it?" Vicky asked cutting her off. The last thing she wanted to think about after last night was how Henry had run off after another girl.

"Well, I started looking into more about Magic…I wanted to learn more about it, about how it might be able to help us."

"Coreen," Vicky warned, pushing back at her hair in a familiar frustrated gesture. "You know how dangerous that stuff is, I thought you'd be the last person who'd want to go looking into it after everything you've been through."

"That's why I had to," Coreen said, perching carefully onto the edge of one of the black leather chairs. "It was magic that brought me back," she whispered. "I needed to know why, how."

"It was dark magic Coreen, it was evil."

"Is it evil that I'm still alive?"

Vicky closed her eyes and swore, coming around the edge of the couch before sitting down and taking Coreen's hands again. She wasn't one of those people who hugged, or cried or got all emotional…but…

"Nothing about you is evil, you're one of the best people I know," Vicky said, meaning every word and trying to will Coreen to believe it.

"But it was evil that brought me back, that was inside of me for days…I had to know what that might mean."

"Nothing," Vicky said vehemently, swearing to both Coreen and herself that it didn't mean anything, that it couldn't. Because part of her wondered sometimes…Coreen was different now though, and she couldn't ignore that either…"It means nothing," she said again.

Coreen nodded, letting it drop for the moment comforted by Vicky's words but still not completely convinced.

"I have to believe that I'm still here for a reason," she said quietly and Vicky nodded, understanding the reaction, the desire to make her life mean something when so many others had died. "There's got to be some reason and maybe it's so that I can do this and send him back, maybe it's so that I can make up for some of it…"

"It's dangerous Coreen, we don't know what could happen, what might go wrong."

"But it's the only thing we've found that might work! We have to try don't we?"

Vicky leaned back into the couch and couldn't help how her mind drifted to the other room where Henry lay sound asleep…running away with him was beginning to be more and more tempting….

"I almost lost you once," Vicky said finally, "I won't let you take that risk again."

Coreen threw herself back, arms crossing over her chest in frustration as she pouted…Vicky was so stubborn, she'd go charging to danger happily without even a second thought as to how it might affect the people who loved her, but if anyone else wanted to take on even the smallest most controlled risk….Coreen paused as something occurred to her.

"Fine, you're probably right," she placated. "I mean I can't believe I even considered it what with the risk that it would be to you…no way that we should go through with it."

"What risk?" Vicky said, sitting forwards unconsciously, interested again. Coreen smiled even while something inside her cringed with how she was about to play a friend who had saved her life into a decision against her will.

"To do the spell, for it to draw Asteroth into the circle that we'll create as an opening to hell, we need something that's tied to him. I thought that it could be me…since…" Coreen shivered, not wanting to mention how having him possess her had created something of a bond between them. "But it wouldn't be enough, and then there'd be no one to do the spell."

"My marks," Vicky said, looking down at her wrists again and rubbing them. The brands had never completely stopped burning, the feeling of fire licking along her skin had been a constant reminder of him ever since he'd come into the world.

"That's what I thought of too," Coreen said, drawing Vicky even further in. A small voice whispered to her that she shouldn't be doing this, that if Vicky said that it was too dangerous she should listen…but she pushed the voice down. "But you're right, it's too dangerous. Anything inside the circle risks being pulled into hell when we open the doorway. We can't risk you like that, I'm sorry we'll find another way."

Coreen held her breath as she watched Vicky consider the option again, her eyes far away as her fingers unconsciously traced over the dark lines and circles on the inside of her wrists, her teeth biting at her lip slightly.

"Tell me more about how this spell would work?" Vicky asked and Coreen tried not to smile in triumph. She had her hooked now. If there was one thing that you could count on with Vicky Nelson these days it was her intense and almost automatic self sacrificing—some might even say self destructive—nature when it came to Asteroth.


	15. Chapter 15

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 15;

Vicky shut the door on Coreen's retreating form and leaned her forehead against it, feeling the cold hardness of the wood press into her skin over and over as she quietly banged her head against its surface.

How could she have agreed to let Coreen go ahead with this? Even just the preparing was risky, and they hadn't even made a firm decision yet. They'd spent most of the morning discussing the spell, Vicky pointing out the numerous holes and gaps in information and Coreen assuring her that there would be more then enough safeguards by the time they were ready to go ahead….it sounded like it might work, but she hated trusting in magic, something about it just made her skin crawl… and, she thought as she turned around and slid down the door to sit on the floor staring into the other room, she knew that Henry would never approve.

Magic was what had finally driven a wedge between them before…oh you could say that there had been a lot of little things—other women, demons and hell—but it was really magic all along. It had all started when she'd used his blood and magic to save his life. Now here she was again, using her blood and the marks to save him again. She didn't' know if their new and fragile relationship could withstand that…hell, she didn't' even know if what they had was a relationship!

Sure, he'd come back and saved her and they'd spend the night together, but she wasn't some fainting damsel virgin expecting that it would be happily ever after forever for them. She knew that it could have just been an emotional reaction to almost dying, to seeing each other again…although it hurt to even think the words…and with Henry still asleep they hadn't had a chance to talk about what this might mean…or what they wanted it to mean. Things were just happening so damn fast…

Coreen said it would take a day or two to get everything ready. That gave her some time to think right?

Vicky jumped as her cell phone rang, the ringtone loud in the silence of the room. She leaned forwards a little ways so that she could reach where she'd left her coat draped over the edge of a chair, rummaging in the pockets before pulling it out. Sometimes it paid to be a little messy.

"Hello?" she answered automatically, for the moment forgetting all about her day job and standard 'Vicky Nelson Investigations' tagline that usually followed.

"Vicky what the fuck is going on?"

"Mike?" she asked incredulous…it couldn't be him, they hadn't spoken in months, not really anyways. But the sound of his voice—even harsh with suppressed anger on the other end of the phone was unmistakable.

"Yeah it's me," he answered, his tone softening at the surprise in her voice. It really had been too long, and here he was calling her up out of the blue. He didn't blame her for being surprised, but he didn't have the patience or the time to deal with it right now.

"It's really you…" Vicky felt as if the world had turned back underneath her, and the last few months had been a bad dream…Henry was here, and Mike and her were speaking again…it would all be alright like it had been before.

"Vicky—I need to know about this girl-- Ann, you visited her in the mental hospital. Why?"

"What?" Vicky said, his words slapping her out of her daydream so suddenly it stung.

"Ann Lywellin," Mike said again, his words hard and cold. "Why did you go see her?"

"Ah…a case…" she stammered, "a client of mine is a distant family member, they wanted some answers" she lied. "Why?"

"Because when she was in the middle of a triple homicide last night it became my case."

"Mike what happened? Where is she?" Vicky asked, suddenly all hazy thoughts about the past swept from her mind. That girl was connected to Asteroth, possibly possessed by some more of his demon friends, if she was out there was no telling what kind of damage she could do.

"Right about now…" Mike stalled as if carefully judging the time to be accurate before he answered. "Probably just making it onto Doctor Modhaven's "to do' list. She went all bloody Mary on herself after killing the nurse and doctor on duty."

"God…" Vicky whispered, not sure whether she was praying for help or just horrified. "He killed her…"

"Vicky **she** killed **them**. There's no "he" involved here."

"You don't understand…" Vicky said quietly, glad that she was sitting down. Asteroth had been in that girl, had forced her to do those horrible things and probably driven her insane before leaving her as a play thing for the other demons who were still trapped in hell to use…no matter what anyone said, Vicky knew he'd been the real one to kill her. She was just a child…

"No, I don't want to understand, and you know what? It doesn't matter," Mike said, not letting the defeat he heard in her voice reach him and quench the anger that had been driving him most of the day. "All I need is why you were there for the report, I got that so we're done."

"Mike wait," Vicky said hearing the click of the phone as he hung up and then only silence on the line.

She punched the off button on her phone and threw it across the room to where it hit the wall and bounced to the floor.

What had happened between them?

She'd always thought that the one person that she could always count on in this world would be Mike Celluci. They'd known each other practically forever, her whole life as cop right from the academy, through their first assignment and then being partners…she'd thought that it was a history that no one would be able to break. But evidently she'd been wrong. Someone had been able to come between them, but it hadn't been who she was expecting cause in the end it wasn't Henry….it was Asteroth.

He'd ripped into their quiet sheltered world and exposed them to real evil, a kind of darkness that their lives in the police force had only hinted at but never fully revealed. That was what had made Mike leave her, the knowledge that no matter what they did, no matter how many lives they saved or killers they caught, that darkness and evil would be waiting just underneath the surface; it was a battle that no one could every win.

Vicky took a deep breath and crossed the room, picking up her phone and weighing it in her palm for a moment, before hitting the speed dial. She held her breath while the sound of the number dialing was replaced with a ring, then two.

"Hello?"

"Coreen, it's on. Can you be ready by tomorrow night? We're not giving up the world without a fight."

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Mike stared at the phone, wishing he could pick it up and throw it across the room, but he felt the twin holes of Captain Crowley's eyes burning into the back of his shirt and knew that he couldn't afford to give in to his anger right now. It would end up on some report, that could be used to throw him off the force; Anger management issues, violent outbursts and behaviour…one short visit upstairs to the cop psychiatrics and then out on the street.

He sighed, pushing back in the chair until he heard the familiar creak of old wood and springs before running his fingers back through his hair. How could feel like such a long day when it wasn't even that much after noon yet?

"Tired partner?"

Mike looked up, seeing Kate standing upside down behind him, her carefully tailored dark grey dress suit looking even longer from his strange angle. He sat up and turned around, shaking his head slightly to return the blood flowing the right direction.

"Just a long night," he answered, feeling his lips form into a smile. There was something easy about chatting with Kate…like you knew there's be no surprises, no strange—or supernatural—twists.

"I bet I could have thought of a way for it to have been even longer," she joked, coming up closer to where he still sat, so close in fact that their knees almost brushed against one another.

"Oh, I completely forgot Kate, I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet you for coffee right? We set it up before Coreen came by and it just slipped my mind."

Kate laughed at his deception even while thinking how amazing a detective he was to remember such a small detail from days ago with so little sleep. She'd believed that he hadn't even heard her that day in the break room, too distracted by his friend showing up to do more then nod without really listening. Looks like Mike was just full of surprises.

"Why don't we go for lunch then and you can make it up to me?" she asked.

Mike looked around, suddenly not sure…he almost felt guilty for thinking about saying yes, but that was ridiculous—he wasn't with anyone. He was a free agent and could do what he wanted. Goodness knows everyone else did, he thought, remembering back to the hurt he'd felt this morning realizing that Vicky had moved and not even bothered to send him a change of address card.

"If it's the case that's bothering you, bring it along," Kate offered, picking up the top folder off his desk and waving it playfully in front of his nose. "You can run some ideas by me, what are partners for right?"

"Yeah," Mike nodded, surprising both himself and her as he pulled her under his arm before steering her around and out the door. "What are partners for."


	16. Chapter 16

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 16;

Vicky stood in line at the morgue. She tried not to fuss with her hair, pulled tight and contained in the French twist. She hadn't worn the style in years, usually these days preferring to leave it out so that it could fall over the edges of her glasses—unconsciously trying to hide them. But somehow it seemed suiting for today.

"Miss Nelson?" the voice called as the line in front of her moved again and she saw an opening appear at the window.

"You're here for…" the faceless woman didn't even glance up while she shuffled through the piles of papers in front of her.

"Ann Lywellin," Vicky reminded gently. "I'm here to claim her body."

"You'll need to fill out these forms.." the woman passed a stack through the small opening but Vicky pushed her hand against the glass before she could send them spilling onto the floor.

"Done." She held out her own slightly crumpled stack.

"And a piece of identification proving your relationship to the deceased," the woman barely paused. She scanned through the forms, and Vicky could see the exact point where her eyes stopped before finally looking up at Vicky—it was the only blank on the whole form; relationship to the deceased.

"Exactly what is your relationship?" the woman asked, eyes skeptically looking Vicky up and down and taking in the dark business casual suit, entirely nondescript and unremarkable. They learned how to dress on the force quickly—not to draw attention to themselves, to be able to blend in and not get noticed. She might as well have pinned the badge she no longer had to the front of her blazer.

"I don't exactly have one…" Vicky confessed. She'd thought about lying; it would be easy enough to fake the necessary documents, but somehow she wanted this last thing to be the truth. It was the only thing that she could do for Annie now and she didn't want to taint it with lies too.

"We can't release bodies to just anyone, there are procedures, protocols to follow." Just like any good bureaucracy, Vicky thought.

"I was working her case," Vicky said, not quiet a lie. "There's no one else. She has no family. I don't want her having a state burial—no headstone, no one to remember her. She deserves more then that. I owe her more then that."

The woman looked at her doubtfully, tapping the edge of her pen against the tall stack of empty forms.

"It's just…I'm responsible for her," Vicky finished lamely. It sounded pathetic and stupid but it was the truth.

The woman was silent for a moment, continuing to look at her before she clicked her pen hard against the table and wrote something in the empty box about relationship to the deceased.

"Your niece will be taken care of Miss Nelson. St. Michaels will handle the arrangements and call you about scheduling the services."

"Thank you," Vicky said, stepping out of line.

The woman nodded, meeting her eyes once more and Vicky saw something familiar and shared in their blue depths. A moment of pure understanding passed between them.

"Next," she called, turning away.

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The sun was setting as Vicky stepped out of the building, turning the sky into a bright tapestry of pinks and gold and orange. She took heart from the burning colours, something about their complete brilliance making her believe again, and find the confidence and faith that she had lost somewhere along the way, between one victim and the next.

But then the colours muted and night began to fall, and Vicky felt doubt creeping in again. Because she didn't know what tonight would bring, and she couldn't decide what to hope for…

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Henry woke up as the last rays of the sun were cut off below the horizon of tall buildings and concrete towers of Toronto. He became completely aware in an instant, the sounds and smells of the metropolis overpowering him for a moment; the car horns honking and people arguing outside, the rats crawling through the alleyways and slightly sickening smell of cooking meat mixing with rotten garbage. But then things came back into focus and his immediate surroundings brought a smile to his lips.

Finally.

He could smell Vicky's particular scent; something of wild flowers and honey that she used in her hair, the particular brand of soap and just the overpowering smell of her on the sheets and lingering on his skin. He listened for a moment, but no other heart beat greeted him and he felt a moment of sorrow at that. He'd spent far too long waking up alone and without the warmth and comfort of another living creature, he missed that.

He lay for a moment, pretending that he could still feel the warmth of Vicky's body in the bed beside him, still feel the softness of her skin against his in the silk of the sheets….

Henry sat up, reaching for his shirt and pants where they lay discarded on the floor from last night, he laughed slightly at the sight of the buttons ripped free from his shirt and drew the soft material on leaving it flapping open in the front. He'd find something more appropriate…or at least not torn later.

He quietly moved through the apartment, taking in the small differences that marked the presence of human habitation….of Vicky. He'd tried hard to cultivate the image of humanity in his home, but the small details were always missing; the bathroom products scattered across the vanity and cupboards, the clutter of coats and scarves in the hall for those who felt the cold of winter, unwashed coffee cups and half eaten boxes of pizza were pushed to the back of the kitchen counters. As he took stock of the changes he realized how far from these small everyday things of humanity he'd actually fell…and how much he had missed it without even realizing it.

Suddenly he needed to see her, to feel Vicky physically with him and touch her, taste the particular salt and sweetness of her honey skin on his tongue…it was worse then hunger. It was a desire so strong it was nearly a compulsion.

He brushed past the doorman, barely a gust of wind and a shadow moving quickly out into the dark streets. The presence of people surrounded him, their voices and blood moving through their veins driving him into a frenzy…he hadn't fed yet this night and it was taking its toll. He could feel the familiar ache in his teeth, the slight pressure against his lips as they elongated to pointy tips.

But he didn't want any of the millions of people who surrounded him, his entire focus was bent to finding one individual among the crowd…a scent of honey and wild flowers lost amid the breeze. It seemed nearly impossible, but he'd had hundreds of years spent tracking prey to perfect his skills…and soon enough he caught her scent and moved towards the darkness of campus, the paths illuminated by the sparse glow of streetlights, brief islands of light.

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Vicky turned off Bloor street and onto Philosophers Walk, the small path that wound through the middle of campus, shadowed by trees that would take her out on the other end a few blocks away. It was more convenient then walking the busy main streets and dodging the people and obstacles she could barely see anymore, but she felt a chill as she passed out of the brightly lit sidewalks and onto the stone pathway. It was quiet back here, the trees bare and their branches stretching out above her and obscuring the stars.

She started to walk quickly, her steps echoing against the pathway as she moved behind the faculty of music, a soft sound of a flute playing in the distance as some dedicated student practiced late into the night.

Vicky paused, feeling someone watching her and turned in a circle but saw nothing but the dark trunks of the maple trees and some late piles of snow lining the ground under the benches set every few meters. She almost turned to go again but her heart was beating so fast…almost racing in the dark…

She laughed then, turning to look over her shoulder once more only to feel arms come around her, enfolding her in warmth against the chill of the night.

"Takes you back doesn't it?" a soft voice whispered in her ear. "The music…the stars, it reminds me of a different time."

"Well you would know," Vicky leaned into his embrace for a moment, before doubt again slithered between them and she began to pull away.

"Henry…."

"Shhh…" his arms tightened around her, holding her in place against this chest. He just wanted to stand like this forever, feeling her body heat, hearing the beat of her heart loud in the darkness.

His lips traveled over the edge of her jaw, nuzzling her hair aside, and Vicky stretched back her neck in invitation, her breath catching as his lips traveled down and heat built between them with each brush of his tongue. When his teeth finally sank deep she thought she was going to faint, the only thing keeping her knees from buckling was the strength of his arms around her…

"Henry…" she tried again when she found her voice, trying not to sound distracted by the feeling of his fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin at the nape of her neck and his other hand moving slowly tracing the tope of her jeans.

"About the other night?.." she tried to keep her voice light and not serious, tried not to let him see how much the answer might mean to her.

Henry pulled her around, still keeping his arms around her but wanted to be able to see her face, to look into her eyes. She was biting slightly at the edge of her lip, a small sign of nervousness escaping her control, and there was shadows of doubt in her eyes.

"Vicky, I haven't been as afraid in hundreds of years as I was when I heard that you were danger and I was too far away to do anything. I tried to just pick up and go on, tried to find a way to live my life without you, but I couldn't. You were everywhere I looked, and truthfully I didn't want to let go."

He lifted her face, tilting her chin up so that he could see the moonlight in her eyes. "I don't want to leave you again, I don't know if I could survive that. Please, I asked you once before, and I made the mistake of not staying to fight for you—of leaving. Vicky, I need you with me, please…come away with me."

Vicky's breath caught in her throat…this was what she wanted, what she'd dreamed of for weeks, months ever since Henry had left, but now that it was happening, why did she feel this ache inside of her? She wanted this more then almost anything—to be with Henry, finally and be able to spend every night safe and warm in his arms. Not have to fight anymore, be able to just rest and enjoy one another and the night.

So what was holding her back?

Annie's death had ended something in her, some fire and determination to keep fighting no matter what…it just wasn't there anymore. She was going through the motions, find the victims, help them where she could, keep trying to find a connection, a clue to how to send Asteroth back to hell…but she was fooling herself if she thought that there was any easy way out that would let them all just be able to live happily ever after. Asteroth was toying with them, and would keep teasing and playing for years watching their pain and knowing that they couldn't stop it…couldn't stop him.

And then there was Coreen's plan…it was dangerous and crazy and stupid---but it might just be insane enough to work. And if it did then this would finally be over, once and for all.

She looked up at Henry, knowing that he would never agree to it, to letting her risk herself in the middle of that much dark magic…and so Asteroth would win. Again. And again and again; and more people would die.

She wanted a life, a future…she wanted this crazy supernatural world that she'd been drawn into by these marks on her skin to just disappear like some bad dream with the morning. Didn't she deserve that, after everything? Didn't she deserve to be happy?

Vicky looked up into Henry's eyes, her own bright with unshed tears and smiled, truly smiled at the naked vulnerable look on his face.

She nodded; "Yes, I want to be free of all this, once and for all. I want to go where no one knows us and we can live quiet, happy lives. I want to go away with you."

Henry pulled her into his arms, kissing her and stealing her breath.

"Lets leave tonight," he said, excitement eager in his tone. "We can go anywhere you'd like—anywhere; Venice, Paris, Rome…I want to see the whole world with you."

Vicky laughed, shakily pulling away slightly and turning so that he wouldn't see her face as she took deep breaths.

"Take it easy," she tried to force a steadiness into her voice. "There's no hurry, and there are loose ends to tie up here first; my business and cases to transfer, people to see…let's leave tomorrow night, everything should be ready by then." Please Coreen…she prayed, let everything be ready by then.

"Tomorrow night," Henry vowed, pulling her back into his arms and she rested her head against the hollow of his collarbone. "Tomorrow night and everything changes."

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy it and please comment! ~xan


	17. Chapter 17

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 17

Vicky paced back and forth in front of the window, looking out at each pass to see the familiar view from her office window; the streets were busy with the late afternoon crowd, people hurrying to get home, or finish the last errands of the day. The hot dog vendor on the corner was doing good business as the overworked ran out of their tall office building for a quick and cheap dinner before heading back in—looks like it was going to be a late night for more then just her.

"I think we're almost done," Coreen's voice behind her drew her attention away from the window and back to what she was trying to avoid thinking about.

Coreen stood on the edge of a red circle drawn in the center of the floor of the back office. Her desk and chairs had been pushed against the walls to make room for the nearly four foot large diameter to be drawn in full. At four points around the circle lay little bowls—one of water, another of dirt, wood chips filled the third and the last was empty. Something about magic and the 4 corners or elements…Vicky didn't entirely understand and she wasn't particularly interested in learning, she just wanted this all to be over now. Coreen said it was necessary, and that's all she needed to know.

"Now we just wait until moonrise."

"Great," Vicky murmured, turning back to the window again. It would be another hour at least before the sun even set, another after that before the moon rose fully into the sky. They were lucky in a way that it was still so early in the season—the days were still short. They used to hate that as cops—more darkness and longer nights meant more opportunities for people to commit crimes…lately she found herself looking forward to nightfall.

It was night when Henry was awake. In the night that they would make their life together…still as the sun glowed softly with the last of the afternoon, touching everything with gold, she thought that there were some things she'd miss about the day.

She pushed herself away from the windowsill, suddenly decisive.

"There's something I have to do, it'll only take a hour or two and then I'll be back," she said grabbing her coat and hurrying out the door.

"Vicky!" Coreen called after her, "Don't be late!"

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Vicky's heart was pounding as she stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway. She'd done this a million times before, so why was she so nervous now?

Because this isn't like any of the other times, a little voice whispered inside her head. This time they hadn't spoken in weeks, had argued nearly every conversation for months before that…she couldn't expect it to be like good old times. But she also couldn't leave without even saying goodbye.

She raised her hand, pausing once more with hesitation, her hand held suspended in the air in front of his door.

She jumped as laughter sounded loud in the hallway and the elevator door beeped open again.

Her heart stopped pounding then, stopped beating all together in fact, as Mike came walking down the hall, laughing and joking and looking so carefree…she hadn't seen him look like that in a very long time. It was as if some invisible crushing weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

But the arm connected to those shoulders was around someone else, and she was holding onto his waist, fingers looped into his belt and leaning into him, smiling and laughing…and it hurt that the person wasn't her.

"Vicky?" Kate asked, seeing her first. She tried not to notice the way Mike stiffened and the relaxed stance of his body automatically tensed.

"Vic," the single syllable of her name sounded foreign.

"Hi Mike…Kate." She had been so sure before, now all that confidence collapsed in under the weight of reality. How had she believed that it could ever be easy and uncomplicated between them, even in this?

"Can we talk? Just for a second?" she asked, barely an inch from begging.

"Why don't I make us some tea and we can look at that file?" Kate suggested, taking the keys easily from his hand and moving discretely past Vicky to open the door and go into Mike's apartment.

They were along in the hallway now, but suddenly Vicky couldn't think of what to say. There were a million things that she wanted to tell him, but none of them that she wanted to be the last. Was it supposed to be this hard?

"What you want Vicky?" Mike said, his tone implying clearly that whatever last bit of patience he had for her tonight was nearly gone.

"I just…you know, it's not important. I just wanted to see you I guess." She tried to smile but failed and so nervously brushed back at her hair letting it fall into her eyes.

Mike nodded, covering his confusion. "You show up out of no where, tonight, just to say hi?"

"Yeah, never had good timing did I?" she joked, but heard the edge of hurt in her voice and so quickly brushed past him. "but you're busy, so I should just go."

"Probably best," Mike said briefly, moving to lean against the door and crossing his arms.

"Yeah…well, then I guess there's nothing else to say," she fumbled, suddenly not wanting to turn and walk away.

"Guess not."

"Good bye Mike," she said trying one last time, and failing to actually smile before turning and walking back down the hall, feeling his eyes on her the whole way while she pushed the elevator button and waited for it to arrive. She collapsed back against the cool mirrored interior as the doors slowly slid closed. It was for the best, she kept telling herself as the elevator moved downwards, mirroring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Vicky took a deep breath and stepped out into the last of the sunlight, reaching into her pocket and punching the speed dial on her cell phone.

"Coreen, I'm on my way back. Lets get this over with."


	18. Chapter 18

Blood Ties: At First Blood Ch. 18;

Coreen felt the power rush over her with every word, the dark and heady intoxication filling her and flooding every vein until she thought she must burst with the confidence and exhilaration it gave her. Was this was Henry felt when he tasted blood? The power of life and death literally in her hands…nothing could ever compare with this…she felt like she could do anything. Could bend the world to her will if she but wished it.

She laughed with glee and reveled in the power that the spell gave her, pushing her fingers against the floor and feeling the wood bend and give way creating a gateway under their pressure.

"Coreen?" Vicky asked, creeping forward to the very inside edge of the blood red circle that enclosed her off from the rest of the office-- and where Coreen sat on the outside. She had to be on the inside to draw Asteroth in, but suddenly she felt so isolated and alone. The lines wavered and rippled against the light wood of the floor as if they were drawn on water that was being tossed in a storm and wind coming from where Coreen knelt, book before her.

Vicky felt a chill as Coreen laughed at the power that she was drawing upon, the sound touching a nerve inside her and evoking echoes of another time when something else had looked out of Coreen's eyes with that much power and laughed like that…

"Coreen!" Vicky shouted in what was a sudden gale of wind in the office, the bucking wood floor throwing her to her hands and knees. This had been a mistake…why didn't she see it? Why had she said they could go ahead?

"Coreen!" she shouted it again, trying to force her voice to be heard and penetrate the wind.

Coreen felt Vicky's cry like some buzzing insect, trying to draw her attention from her play and power and almost ignored it, but something made her pause. She'd heard that tone before…a long time ago it seemed, but it became clearer as she focused on it. There was pain in the sound, an undercurrent of loss, but what touched her and made her raise her head was the heartbreak…it was how Vicky had sounded when she thought that Coreen was dead at Asteroth's doing.

Her eyes fought to focus on the room around her, fought to lessen the wind and storm of magic that raged trapped inside the circle that Vicky still inhabited, to calm it enough to see the golden form of her friend. Vicky was hunched against the floor only a few feet in front of Coreen, the wind ripping at her hair, and the floor swirling and bulging with the force of hell beneath her.

"Coreen!" Vicky yelled when she saw her lift her head, and found something familiar looking back from her brown eyes…and if there was something unfamiliar too, she tried not to dwell on that. "The spell Coreen!" she shouted. "Read the spell, bind him to the circle!"

Coreen forced her head to nod, the movement stiff and hard as if the air was particularly dense. Her eyes found the words inscribed on the pages in front of her and she pushed the latin words off her tongue, the syllables hard and draining the power that had built up within her with every sound.

Vicky bit her lip against the pain as Coreen started to speak, the strange and unfamiliar language reaching her ears somehow even through the storm of magic and creating a build up of electric charge within the circle, like lightening was about to strike. Vicky could feel her hair begin to lift and collect static and she pressed her palms to the floor to keep them steady.

She kept her eyes locked on Coreen's form, not noticing how her blood pooled under her fingers and ran in unnatural rivulets to combine with the outer circle, the brands on her wrists burning with fire and leaking blood.

Coreen paused, her tongue and lips blistering from the power she poured out of herself with every word, she drew breath to continue and then stopped. Why should she give up everything? This was her power now, hers to do with what she wanted…and didn't she deserve it? After everything that she'd suffered at the demons hands, everything that Vicky had allowed her to suffer, had kept dragging her back to day after day in this endless quest. And now asking her to give up this power, this gift that finally made her feel safe and whole again after having her life ripped apart by that demon time after time?

She looked up from the page, her eyes black and staring out at Vicky with hate.

"Coreen, only a little more and then this is will over, finally over…" Vicky gasped as the floor lurched underneath her again, hands curling hard against the wood and feeling her nails break. "Please, Coreen… come on… please.."

And the sound of Vicky's voice drew her back again, a second time reaching her through the haze and blur of magic that was twisting around and around the circle, but they both knew that there wouldn't be a third time. Coreen took a breath and tried to fill herself with the love and strength she found in Vicky to replace the emptiness and resentment that grew and grew in equal proportions as her words continued to fill and ripple through the air.

Vicky cried out as the last syllables sounded and split the air like thunder, the charge finally breaking over her like lightening and leaving her blind in its wake, bright and white and burning cold…

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Vicky opened her eyes to blowing snow, watching it float and swirl in some soft breeze it would almost have been unbearably beautiful if it hadn't been falling in the wrong direction. It was being pulled up from the floor underneath her hands and feet to disappear somewhere above her head against the slightly water stained plaster of her office ceiling.

"I would have come had you but asked," said a deep voice from behind her and she turned, leaving a trail of blood droplets red against the white snow as her hand moved out protectively.

"Asteroth…" she whispered. He was still in the body of Raymond Castiel, the priest who Henry had found to do the exorcism on Coreen, and Vicky found herself hating the irony of how pure the dark clothes and white collar looked in the gently blowing snow.

He bowed slightly, inclining his head to her while never loosing her gaze.

"The one and only, and I must say I'm impressed," he whistled looked around and drew his fingers in the air at the edge of the circle causing sparks to fly, fire and snow hissing in the air. "I knew you were going to be special Vicky, I wouldn't have chosen you otherwise, but this? This is far beyond what I ever expected."

"Surprised you didn't we you bastard?" Coreen spit, sitting up and trying not to choke on the taste of blood that filled her mouth as the blisters over her lips burst.

But Asteroth didn't even glance her way, his whole vision taken up solely with Vicky Nelson finally in his reach.

"You've fought hard," he acknowledged, partly to see the fire flare in her eyes in response and partly to pay witness to the truth. "Far harder then I would have ever expected, but it's over now. We're done with the games, time to come to me, time to come home," he said, holding out his hand to Vicky, palm open in invitation.

And she felt the answering burning and itching of the skin on her own wrists, it twitched and shivered to answer him, blood flowing again to drip into the snow. He reached out and caught a drop before it could stain the white carpet beneath them, bringing it to his lips tasting her. Vicky looked away sickened, hating how he turned what had been so sensual between her and Henry into something obscene and dark.

"Come home Vicky…"

"Not this time," Coreen interrupted, her voice twisted with hate and darkness as she leaned towards the edge of the circle. "This time it's you who's going home—right back to hell." Coreen flipped the page, revealing the last of the spell that would shut the gateway they'd opened to hell and pull Asteroth back as it closed.

"Vicky!" she shouted, holding out her hand and feeling her lips form the beginning syllables of the final verse as Vicky's fingers intertwined with her own.

But nothing came out…she licked her lips and tried again, voice straining to push the harsh sounds out her throat but if it had been hard before with all the power behind her, it was now impossible drained and empty as she was. She looked up, her eyes finding Vicky's with horror as she realized that she couldn't finish the spell. They were standing on an open doorway to hell and she couldn't speak the words with enough power to close the door and send him back.


	19. Chapter 19

Blood Ties: At First Blood Ch. 19;

Henry felt the power building from half way across the city, the darkness overwhelming what light that was also quickly fading from sight. The streets were oddly deserted at this early hour, almost as if the people could feel that it wasn't safe to be out of doors tonight, and as Henry raced down empty alleys there were no animals in sight. Everything was hidden away, trying desperately not to draw attention to themselves, some base instinct, older then tv broadcast warnings and sounded alarms screaming of danger.

If only Henry could believe that this overpowering sense of evil and dread that was filling the air was nothing but paranoia…he'd fallen into a rest more peaceful then any he might have previously known just that morning, only to be awaken before dawn to this sense of horror. He'd tried immediately to convince himself that Vicky wasn't involved, that she was only out, completely unaware and getting ready to leave with him, but even to his own ears the words sounded false. And as he hurried closer and closer to her office feeling the stench of demons and evil grow with each blurred step, he felt the last of that desperate lie die to settle like ice and snow in his veins.

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"Coreen?" Vicky whispered, her hands holding so tight that Coreen's fingers were white and bloodless in between her own. She couldn't push her hands through the circle past the brands on her wrists, as if it was indiscriminately keeping anything tied to Asteroth inside, but she wasn't about to let on to Coreen. They had to finish this now no matter what the cost.

"I can't say the spell…" Coreen confessed, tears gathering in her eyes and making the clean lines of black eyeliner smudge and flow.

"Of course you can't say the spell my child," Asteroth mocked from behind them, opening up his arms wide to touch and spark off the outside of the circle. "You think you could stand against all the force of hell? Pride is definitely my favorite sin," he smirked.

"Vicky, I'm sorry…" Coreen whispered, letting the tears fall as it sunk in. She'd pushed Vicky to let her to the spell, had used her guilt and single-mindedness to manipulate her into it and because of that the world was about to be subjected to the worst horrors imaginable…they'd released hell onto earth.

"Try again," Vicky insisted, voice strong with emotion as she refused to let Coreen be suckered into Asteroth's game. This was just another trick, another lie of his to get them to stop believing that they could win long enough for him to bring hell through that doorway. Well she wasn't falling for it, she'd fight until there was nothing left of her for him to take.

"I'll take it all," he hissed, hearing her unspoken vow and raising his hands and fire burst against the magic dome, swirling against the barrier and turning the snowflakes into ash.

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"Coreen, " Vicky choked, and fought not to breathe, lest the flame and smoke fill her mouth and lungs. If she could only get Coreen to finish the spell…

Coreen felt the fire lick at her hands, the heat bringing blisters on her fingers to match the ones on her lips, but she didn't let go of Vicky.

"Coreen! Finish the spell! " a new voice shouted what Vicky could not, bringing a rush of power and cool air into the room like a balm. And suddenly Henry was there, his hands reaching around Coreen to hold onto Vicky's inside the circle.

The flames seemed to vanish as quickly as they had erupted, almost like they had been banished by Henry's mere presence, but Vicky could feel the quiet watchfulness in the slow burning of her marks that told her it was still Asteroth's power that controlled the flames.

"Henry Fitzroy, can that possibly be you?" the demon drawled conversationally. "It's been a long time…the years have been kind I see, but I think they might have made you soft. This concern with humanity is so unlike your kind. Self preservation is more your tune."

Henry snarled, baring his teeth but refusing to be bated with how he'd sacrificed those who tried to sacrifice him in the past. "Finish the spell Coreen," he growled, eyes burning with hate and warning at the demon who stood inside a circle he could not cross.

"I can't," she choked on sobs that closed off her throat.

"Yes you can," Vicky said, trying to put the strength of her belief in Coreen into her voice as raw and horse as it emerged. "He only wants you to believe that you can't."

Coreen shook her head, tears falling. She'd failed them….she couldn't do it. "The power's gone…"

"It's not gone Coreen," Asteroth said, and she shivered as the demon spoke her name. "It's just not yours anymore."

He started to speak, the power that eluded her so plain and clear in his voice. But instead of calling words that would close the door, Coreen recognized what he spoke and realized the full depth of her failure. Because what he called were not words of power or control, but names. Names of all the demons that she and Vicky had researched; demon's of death and blindness, of fire and drowning, demons of pain and famine that he was calling into the world through a door that she had opened wide for him.

And the only thing that stood barring that door was the very thin bones, and skin and blood that made up the form of Vicky Nelson, caught within a circle of Coreen's making.

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Henry snarled and threw himself at Asteroth, only to crash against the boundary of the circle—what held the demon in was just as effective at holding him out it appeared. Which meant that there was no way that he could stop what was happening. He cursed in anger—at himself for being late, for believing Vicky when she said she'd leave it alone, leave with him, at Coreen for being so stupid and blind to believe that this would work…at Vicky for believing it and risking their future on this hopeless plan.

He knelt reaching as close to the edge of the circle as he could and folding his hands over Vicky and Coreen's again. Her wrists remained secured at the very line of circle, but he enfolded what he could of her fingers.

"Coreen, try again," he said, his tone hard and commanding as he looked at where Vicky knelt.

She nodded at him, "try Coreen," she seconded.

"Yes, try Coreen," the demon mocked from inside the circle, pausing in his recitation long enough to quash what small confidence she was gaining. "Try like you tried to stop me from hurting them before, try like you tried when I was inside of you….try like when you tried to stop me from cutting out your heart." And with those words she felt the tearing pain again as the blade ripped into her skin and through cartilage and bone.

"It's not real…it's not real," she whispered to herself, eyes squeezed shut to block out of the memory, but she opened her eyes at the feeling of wetness on her chest—it felt too real to ignore—and cried out at the spreading red stain across her shirt over her heart.

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Mike looked out through the blinds covering the windows of the office and cutting the outside world into even horizontal bars. He could feel it. The evil soaking into his skin as the night grew darker and a sense of dread permeating deep and settling like a lump of lead in his stomach. Something was going on out there…he could feel it.

And from the crowd of cops lingering silent and watchful behind him, he knew that they could feel it too.

Only unlike him they had no idea what was happening. The fear and dread overcoming them making the squad room feel like it did before they were preparing for a big raid where everyone knew that something horrible was about to happen but didn't know what, or who might be returning unscathed. But this time Mike had a feeling that not a single one of them was going to make it out of this one, and they weren't even at ground zero.

As he thought of who must be, that lump of lead grew larger and colder within him. And he couldn't ignore the restless feeling that he was in exactly the _wrong_ place.

Why was he standing here, huddling inside behind doors where it was safe while she faced possibly the greatest danger yet? For a job? Safety and security? –he looked over his shoulder at where Kate stood, dark hair straight and pulled back in a neat orderly ponytail, clothes pressed to perfect edges and tailored to perfection—for something easy and straightforward?

Love was messy and complicated and frustrating and hard headed…but there was nothing else in the world like it.

He looked out the windows again, the swath of night sky that was so dark it was as if the night had eaten the stars, swallowing them whole. Something was happening out there…and _he was in exactly the wrong place_.

Mike turned, hand slipping up under his jacket to check his gun and the extra clip on his belt before turning and pushing his way through the people who were supposed to be his colleagues and out the door.

"Mike!"

He didn't turn at the voice behind him, opening the outer doors to the squad room and walking out into the hall.

"Mike wait!" a hand grabbed his jacket and turned him around. "You can't go out there," Kate said, as if the reason why should be obvious to anyone with eyes and a brain that was still functioning. And from the look she gave him it was clear that she was having serious doubts about his.

"I have to."

"Mike…I know that you feel like you have to…we all do, we took an oath to serve and protect. But this…this…whatever this is.." she struggled for words to explain it, the rational cops part of her mind rejecting such superstitious words as 'magic' and 'evil' but her body knew the truth. "You can't go out there Mike," she tried again to find the right words to make him stay, to let him and his conscious off the hook.

"I have to," he said again, it was as much of an explanation as he could offer—because he did know what was out there in the dark, and despite that, despite everything, he just _had to_ go.

Kate looked up at him again and her hand fell from his sleeve.

"This is about her, isn't it? Vicky."

Mike looked back at her, his clear eyes far away as if miles separated them already. "Yes, it is," he answered. "It's always been her."


	20. Chapter 20

Blood Ties: At First Blood. Ch. 20;

Coreen felt the pain ripping through her ribcage as the knife cut in so deeply she could barely breathe. It was happening again…oh God, please not again…but the blood was sticky against her chest, making the fabric of her shirt cling and she could smell the acrid tang of it in the air. The feeling of fingers pulling open her skin and sinking in to squeeze and crush her heart, made her gasp and reel back in pain.

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"Coreen?" Vicky asked with concern as her hand fell away from theirs and she clutched at her chest in pain.

"Coreen what is it?" Vicky pushed her hands as far as they could reach outside the circle, but it wasn't far enough. Coreen huddled right outside of her grasp.

"Henry what's going on?" Vicky looked up to where Henry knelt, still holding fast onto her wrist.

He met her gaze and forced his fingers to open and let go of her hand, moving over to where Coreen lay. He touched her gently but she flinched away, hands coming out to bar him away from her and protect her chest. She was whispering something so quietly he could barely hear it over and over again, like a mantra or a prayer. He caught the odd words…please, no, blood, not again.

"Something about blood?" he asked, turning to look at Vicky and beyond her to where Asteroth stood in the center of the circle, hands wide as darkness floated up around him to swirl and push the boundaries of the circle outwards.

"Blood?"

"I don't see or smell any," Henry said confused.

Asteroth paused in his recitation long enough to laugh down at where they all sat; Vicky as close to the boundaries of the circle as she could get, Henry refusing to move far from her side and Coreen locked in some horror of her own none of them could break through.

"What are you doing to her?" Vicky demanded, standing up to face him, her anger for the moment overriding any fear.

"Me?" Asteroth asked with mock innocence, the swirling hoard of demons pausing for a moment before rearranging around him like a dark aura. "I'm doing nothing, this is all your doing."

"Bull shit," she accused. "I would never hurt her."

"Never? Oh I don't think so," Asteroth moved forwards so that he was close enough to touch her but Vicky still held her ground. "You're the one who brought her back after all."

"I couldn't let her die," Vicky said, something inside her beginning to shrink down and fold within itself and trepidation taking hold.

"You couldn't, you, you, you. This is what it's all about with you isn't it? You didn't think about what you might be bringing her back to, did you?"

"Don't listen to him Vicky!" Henry shouted, caught between Coreen's rocking form and the edge of the circle that held Vicky prisoner. "He's a demon, they lie."

"Am I lying Vicky?" Asteroth asked her quietly, moving closer still until she could see the red flecks that danced at the depths of his eyes even while they didn't bleed. "Or did you do this for you, out of selfishness and need for what you wanted. You didn't think about the pain and fear that she'd face coming back. Oh no, you didn't think about it, not how much it would hurt her to track down every case you've been working on, how in every one of their eyes she'd see both herself and me and remember it again. How the dreams would haunt her at night, the guilt during the day. You didn't think about it even once."

"You bastard," Vicky choked out around the lump that had taken up most of the room in her throat and threatened to choke her.

"Not I," he said again, fingers reaching out to trace a tear off her cheek before turning away. "What she faces is not my doing, but yours. You brought her back and now she has to live with her past. Or die from it."

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Vicky stood there a moment longer, paralyzed by his words, before he spoke again—the sound of demon names ringing loud into the growing storm and making her move again.

"Coreen, look at me," Vicky forced herself to ignore the way her voice shook, trying to make Coreen hear her.

But it didn't seem to have any effect, Coreen lay rocking back and forth just outside her reach.

"Henry?" Vicky looked to him, desperation only barely hiding in her eyes.

"I don't know what's she's facing, what he's making her believe is happening right now…it might be dangerous to try and drag her out of the memory."

"More dangerous then if we don't?" Vicky asked, looking around her to the growing darkness as more and more demons emerged from the door to hell.

"I don't know what might happen," Henry warned, trying to caution Vicky and protect her at the same time—this might work, or it might as easily drive Coreen mad. He didn't know what past memory she faced, none of them knew everything that she's been forced to do or see at the demon's bidding, but whatever it was, he hoped that whatever he did wasn't going to be worse.

Vicky nodded at him, hands splayed wide in helplessness against the floor. "We have to."

Henry nodded back and reached for Coreen, his hands closing gently over her arms and urging her to the edge of the circle again, but at the first touch she started to scream as if in pain.

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The fist caught Henry unprepared and sent him crashing to floor a few feet away from Coreen.

"Mike?" Vicky asked, peering out and wondering for a moment if all the magic swirling around her was making her see things too or if Mike was really here?

"What the hell is going on Vic?" he asked with just the right amount of concern and exasperation that there wasn't any doubt it was really him.

"It's…it's.." she wanted to tell him that it was Asteroth, that he was torturing Coreen somehow with visions of her past but suddenly she wasn't so sure that he was the one to blame. She's been nearly obsessed with this quest to find him and send him back to hell, she hadn't much noticed or cared if Coreen was being torn apart in the process.

"She's re-living some memory from the past," Henry said, sitting up and rubbing at his jaw. "Something about blood and not again?"

"And what you couldn't figure out that maybe it might be a bad idea to literally shake her out of it bat-boy?" Mike said, his voice rich with sarcasm as he approached Coreen slowly with caution and knelt in front of her.

"Coreen?" he asked, eliciting only a small whimper.

She was curled in on herself, arms crossed protectively over her chest and rocking back and forth slightly. He'd seen the same thing with child victims of rape or abuse, and proceeded gently since he was pretty sure of which memory she was reliving.

"Coreen, I need you to listen to me," he said again, putting the barest hint of force into his voice, but being careful not to actually touch her. "What you're seeing, what you're feeling it isn't real. It's just a memory, it's in the past and you survived it. You survived this—the pain and the fear, it will always be a part of you" and now he did reach out and brought her hand up, forcing it to move against the resistance of terror that froze her muscles in place and resting it over her heart, where she could feel the thick ridge of scar tissue through the thin shirt. "But it doesn't have to control you. It will always be with you, but you can choose whether or not it defines who you are—whether it stops you from living or whether you live to stop it."

"Come back to us Coreen," Vicky said moving her hand to lay over Coreen's where it rested against the floor. "You were strong enough to survive this once, strong enough to come to work with me every day and fight to prevent it from happening to anyone else, you can do it."

Mike's hand moved to rest of hers and Vicky realized at the slight pressure that she was crying. She looked up and met his eyes, a look passing between them and suddenly all the months, all the fights and unreturned phone calls didn't matter anymore—he was with her and always would be.

Henry stirred drawing her attention again and the familiar tug pulled at something inside of her as he moved to put his hand over hers and Coreen's as well.

"If anyone can do this, you can Coreen," he said, the truth of it coming clearly through in his tone—she'd opened this door, it was impossible for anyone else to close it now.

Vicky's breath caught as Coreen's fingers turned and held onto hers as well, the tight pressure giving her hope again that she hadn't even realized she'd lost.

Coreen took a shaky breath and looked down at where their hands were all locked together, all four of them holding tight to Vicky and refusing to let go. She drew strength from the sight and looked up again to where Asteroth waited.

"Go to hell," she said quietly but full of force and conviction and started to speak…but oh it was hard, so hard just to bring each syllable to lit onto her tongue and then excruciatingly painful to force it out past her lips and hear it sound with force into the air. She could feel it drawing strength from her, and without the added power from the ritual to bolster her, the only thing that it could take from was herself…her life. But it was working, she could feel it working and see with each word how the circle shriveled and shrank in on itself, freeing inch after inch of Vicky's golden skin from its grasp as first her wrists emerged into Henry and Mike's waiting hands, then arms and elbows…

But it was hard…and Asteroth was fighting her, the power of hell and all the demons backing him, driving him to silence her and free them. She felt herself stutter over a word, her voice breaking on the final syllable and she gasped, unable to draw enough air into her weakened and dying body to continue…but she had to try, because the circle was pushing outwards again, slowly swallowing up the small part of Vicky that she'd worked so hard to free.

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Vicky watched as Coreen slowly sagged back against the supporting arms of Henry and Mike who stood behind her, basically holding her up at this point. She could see the strain matched equally with determination shining out of Coreen's eyes, the fierceness that she would fight to her last breath for her friends and to stop Asteroth from winning his way into the world…

but Vicky could also see that, that would be the cost as well. Coreen was spending her life, drawing on the very essence that sustained her to feed the magic. And it wasn't going to be enough.

Vicky could see that even while Coreen fought and gasped over the foreign syllables of the magic that would close the door and pull Asteroth back into hell, hell was pushing back.

She felt the pressure of their hands holding her tight, refusing to let her go—every last one of them, even if it meant the end of the world. And she loved them for it, but she couldn't put herself, her own selfish desires first anymore. Because Asteroth had been right—it had all, all of it, from very beginning of bringing Coreen back, to agreeing to leave with Henry and trying to win Mike back, all of it had been about _her_.

She couldn't let them sacrifice everything for her again—she couldn't let herself do that again.

"Vic…no," Mike said, reading every line of her clearly before she even looked up to meet his eyes, her tears gone.

She looked to Henry then and felt a twinge of regret at the pure depth of loss and pain that was reflected through his eyes. She wished there was time to tell him how much she had really wanted to leave with him, but she could feel the storm coming to a head behind her again and knew that the time for words and explanations had passed long ago. He had forever to find someone who could take the hurt of today from him, and she hoped that it wouldn't take him long to find her.

Meeting Coreen's eyes was hard, far harder then she imagined. Their brown was obscured by tears and she refused to give up even now, her lips bleeding and breaking with the force of the words she was trying to give her life to speak. This would be hard for her, Vicky knew, but she also knew that she'd survive—which was more then could be said of many many people if Vicky didn't stop this now. She managed to find a small smile for Coreen as she slowly pulled her hand out from underneath theirs, eyes coming back full circle to rest on Mike again.

He didn't look at her with pain or loss or determination. His eyes were empty, they made no claim or judgment, only clear acceptance…and if there was a little sadness in them, if they shone more then usual then she was sure that it was only her own eyes reflecting back at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, emotion breaking the words before she turned and reached for Asteroth, the marks on her wrists burning with fire hot enough to melt the ash and snow that swirled around her. When her fingers touched his flesh the fire exploded, rushing to meet the answering power in the storm and drawing it down and over the two of them where they stood.

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The light was so bright it was blinding, a cold so deep it burned and even after they had to close their eyes—Henry holding out the longest but even he couldn't withstand the power in the gale that rushed around them seeking any escape.

And then just as quickly it was gone.

They stood up slowly, the two men hanging onto each other for support even though the unnatural wind no longer buffeted at them, the girl collapsed at their feet, motionless from the force of the magic and the storm. There was a smell of ozone in the air and ash slowly floated to the floor around them.

But the room was otherwise empty; the furniture gone as if never had existed. The only sign that anything had every happened in this room was the bare floor burned dark black in the center of a nearly perfect burnt circle. But it too was empty, Asteroth and Vicky had vanished and the doorway was gone, closed.

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---------------FIN-----------------

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	21. Chapter 21

2

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Epilogue;

She became aware of noises first…commonplace sounds; people talking quietly, and traffic outside, someone was being paged in a very loud voice…they didn't have to yell, especially when she had such a headache. Someone should tell them to be quiet…she tried to wake up enough to do so herself, felt the pain as her lips rubbed together like they were chapped and raw and a small sound escaped. She wrinkled her forehead in annoyance, as it happened again, opening her eyes to tell them off, she promptly shut them again in near blindness it was so bright in the room. The sunlight glancing off the pure white walls so strongly it hurt.

It seemed wrong that it should be so bright…she remembered darkness, a black so pure and deep it should have swallowed the world.

"Coreen?" another voice. Why wouldn't they be quiet and let her sleep?

"Coreen, are you awake? Come on, open your eyes." But there was something familiar, in the voice and the tone, something that she recognized and that touched and resonated deep within her. A pain deeper the loss, with guilt and blame and heartbreak.

She let her eyes flicker open, the barest of fractions so that her lashes still shielded them from the unbearable light.

"Mike?" she asked after a moment as her eyes slowly adjusted.

He nodded, leaning closer from where he sat beside her bed. But that was strange, this wasn't her apartment…"Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital."

"What happened? Where is Henry? Vicky?" he flinched with the question as if she'd struck him and she automatically tried to reach out a hand but it only moved the barest of distance before she let it fall back, utterly exhausted.

"You….you don't remember?" he asked, something in the way he wouldn't look at her and ducked his head warning her that maybe she didn't want to remember. When she stayed silent he took a deep breath, as if trying to find the courage to speak and then giving up; his voice sounding empty and hollow:

"It was two days ago" the stubble of untrimmed beard that graced his chin, and rumpled unchanged clothes were evidence enough of that, but she stayed quiet.

"I was just getting off duty when it started. I didn't know what it was right away, there was this sense of dread first…and menace like something was lurking in the dark ready to take you, kill you, or worse…"

"Evil," she supplied, voice saying the word and conjuring a memory of drawing a circle on a familiar wooden floor.

"Yes." Mike affirmed. "It was evil…it was as if the world was being swallowed by evil. And then I knew. I don't know how, but I just _**knew**_ and suddenly there was no where else I wanted to be when the world ended. I had to be with her. I was ready for it, so long as we were together and the last thing I saw was her eyes….but then…then I lost her. She saved the world from being taken over by Asteroth…but it might as well be Hell for me. Because she's not here but the world goes on anyways."

Mike stared vacantly off into middle distance, not looking at Coreen or watching while his words brought it all back to her, not looking at anything really. He pushed himself up, and out of the chair as he heard Coreen take the first shaky breath that was sure to lead to tears, to the raging and pain and grief that would follow. And then he turned and walked out the door. He was done with it. He was done with it all.

Let the world deal with the demons that had slipped through Asteroth's open door on its own. Let the world burn for all he cared anymore. Vicky Nelson was gone, and with her went all that was worth fighting or saving in this world anyways.

A/N:

Here ends Blood Ties: At First Blood. My second fanfiction in the BT universe.

Thanks again to Tanya Huff for creating such wonderful characters, and Peter Mohan for bring them to life on the screen with the talents of Christina Cox, Dylan Neal, and Kyle Schmid 

Finally--- don't worry! Our tale doesn't end here—check out the third fic in my Blood Ties trilogy:

_**Blood Ties; The Ties that Bind**_

(chapter 1 up now and more to follow) to find out if everyone can pick up and go on or if this is it for our supernatural fighting trio.


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